


A Light in the Window

by Alexander_L



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Battle, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Friendship/Love, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:15:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexander_L/pseuds/Alexander_L
Summary: The new world Byleth awakens to after her five-year slumber is overwhelming. Everyone she knew has changed while she remained frozen in time. A war has broken out and she was not there to fight it alongside her friends.The only welcome change is her old camaraderie with her sparring partner Felix growing into something much more precious.Content warnings: battle violence, explicit sexual content, references to past character death
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth, Ferdinand von Aegir/Mercedes von Martritz (background), Sylvain Jose Gautier/Claude von Riegan (background)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	1. Into the New World

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the very first fanfics I wrote, way back at the beginning of 2020. I posted it briefly then deleted it in a moment of second-guessing myself. After discovering it in a dusty forgotten corner of my Google Drive, I realized that I am actually quite fond of this story, rough and simple as it is. Writing it helped introduce me to the world of fanfic and helped me begin to develop the writing style I would later use in The Shadow War series and my Ferdibert series.  
> I'm feeling sentimental, so I've decided to repost it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this bit of Felileth!
> 
> (Psst the smut is in chapter 3 if that's what you're here for)

###  Byleth

"Everyone really made it, Teach. They all came back after five years. But that’s the Golden Deer for you. I never should have doubted them."

I look around the cathedral filled with heaps of rubble and shattered bits of stained glass, but brightened by the eager voices of the reunited students.

Well, they’re not students anymore, are they? Most are older than me now. Their lives have kept going while mine was stuck frozen in time.

"Not everyone," I reply quietly but Claude is too busy laughing at something Petra said to hear me.

Caught up in the relief of seeing each other, none of them notice how distracted I am. Or maybe they are too used to my impassive expression for it to be out of the ordinary.

"Excuse me," I say and start to walk away from the group. 

Claude catches my hand to stop me and says, "Where are you going?"

"I… I just want to walk around and see the state of everything."

"I'll come with you then so we can form our plan of attack on how to clean this place up."

"No, you should stay here and be with your friends. I would appreciate a little time to myself. I have much on my mind."

"Okay. Just keep an eye out for trouble, will you? I'm not totally certain we're safe here yet," he says.

I nod with a vague smile and leave the cathedral. I'm not sure where I'm going, but I find myself walking towards the front gates, through the empty marketplace.

I hesitate before stepping outside the protection of the monastery walls, but my body feels strong enough to wield a weapon and I am sure my hands still know how to weave spells despite my five year slumber.

I draw my dagger from its sheath and hold onto it, not necessarily out of caution but more because the smooth steel of the toothed blade is oddly soothing. It is something familiar in this place where everything that should be familiar has been altered by time and the damages of war.

_ “This is yours, isn’t it?” _

_ “No, it’s not mine,” Felix replied. _

_ “I saw you practicing with it in the training hall yesterday. I found it on my doorstep this morning and I figured you’d want it back.” _

_ “It, uh… It was mine. Now it’s yours,” he said. _

_ “Mine?” _

_ “Look, if you don’t want it, just throw it away or sell it or something. It’s the best wootz steel in Fódlan. You’d get a good price for it,” he said defensively, glancing away to avoid my eyes. _

_ I admired the flawless balance of the weapon and the vicious edges of its perfectly carved blade. _

_ “Thank you,” I said. While he was distracted, I swung the dagger at him.  _

_ He reacted instinctively even though caught off guard and dodged out of the way of the slice. “You think you can get the drop on me that easily?”  _

_ “I was just testing it out.” _

_ “Well, I’ve got some homework to do, thanks to you. If you want to spar later this evening you know where to find me.” _

Distracted by the memory, I nick my finger on the edge of the blade and flinch. After healing it back up with a spell, I sheathe the dagger and turn my attention to the road. But it winds its way into the woods and I can’t see too far down it.

I walk down it for a while, but my common sense overcomes my impulsiveness after a couple miles. Who knows what is in those woods these days. Instead of venturing into them, I find a rocky ledge on the hillside overlooking the road and sit down to keep watch.

Will he come? He might have grown up into a man too practical to hold to a sentimental promise made in the naiveté of his youth. He is caught in the middle of a war now and his loyalty no doubt lies with Faerghus more than the house he chose during his school days.

Claude didn’t tell me much about what is going on in the north, other than that Dimitri died and the country is wrought with instability and revolt. I had asked about Felix and Sylvain, but he didn’t know where they had last been seen.

I hope they are still fighting side by side at least and have not been separated by the conflict. Losing Dimitri will not have been easy for them. I hope they were there for each other.

I hope they are alive.

The sun is dipping down towards the horizon and the winter chill is sinking into my body. Wrapping my cloak around myself tighter, I shiver and wonder if I should head back. But I can’t tear my eyes away from the road. An hour has passed without me even realizing it. I might as well wait another.

The solitude helps my mind process all that has been overwhelming it and I start to feel more clear-headed and resolute. Even though I wasn’t there for the beginning of this war, I will be there for the end. I will bring about its end.

Pulling out the dagger again, I get to my feet and brandish it. In an effort to warm up and distract myself from my anxious thoughts, I go through the motions of a sword exercise. It gets my blood pumping enough that it chases away the cold. Caught up in the familiar practice, I lose track of time until I notice that the light is fading quickly.

I look over at where the road disappears into the trees and feel an ache of resignation and sadness fall over my spirit. Maybe he really isn’t coming. Worse yet, maybe he is lying in a cold, snowy grave up in Faerghus. Felix could win a fight against any swordsman other than me, but even he couldn’t fight off an army on his own.

I sheathe the dagger and turn back to the monastery. But I only walk for a few minutes before I stop, my breath catching at the sound of distant hoofbeats. Whirling around, I strain my eyes to see through the twilight as two figures on horseback emerge from the shelter of the woods.

A glint of strawberry red hair makes hope leap back into my mind and I run towards them. They break into a gallop and as they draw closer, I see that it is Sylvain and Felix.

“Professor?” Sylvain shouts, reining in his horse. He leaps from the saddle and races over to me. “You’re alive!”

I realize as he hugs me that although my head used to be shoulder-height, now it is pressed against his chest. I step back and look up at him, marveling at how tall and broad-shouldered he is. 

“You haven’t aged a day!” he says with a grin. “Still beautiful as always.”

“You’re all grown up,” I say, then wince at what a stupid thing that was to say. Of course he is.

But Sylvain is abruptly shoved aside as Felix barges in. He stops a foot away from me and stares at me like he is seeing a ghost. I can’t help but stare back in shock as well, struck by the fact that the awkward student I knew yesterday is suddenly standing before me now as a man older than me. 

His hair is still falling in his face like it always did and his mouth is drawn tight in its usual unreadable frown, but his eyes have a slightly different look. They aren’t quite as sharp and good at hiding emotion as they used to be. I can see his astonishment and relief clear as day in them.

He stumbles forward and grabs me in a hug, holding onto me so tightly it hurts. I wrap my arms around him and hide my face in the wool edge of his jacket so he can’t see the vulnerable look on my face. A strange stab of pain pierces my chest and for a second I worry I’m injured somehow. Then I realize that it is a heartbeat. Once, twice it beats before returning to its normal stillness.

Felix yanks out of my arms and takes a step back, clearing his throat gruffly. “Fancy meeting you here. I was under the impression you were dead,” he says, looking determinedly past me at the monastery, a slight tinge of red in his cheeks. “It’s a welcome surprise.”

“What happened to you?” Sylvain asks, cutting in again.

“I don’t know. I was asleep or unconscious somehow… I don’t know. But I just woke up. I thought the siege on the monastery was yesterday but I found Claude here and he told me that five years have passed,” I explain.

Sylvain shakes his head. “That is pretty crazy, even for you.”

“Even for me?” 

He winks at me. “Come on, Professor. You’ve always had a few screws loose. It’s part of your charm.”

“Is that so?” I ask.

“It’s getting dark,” Felix says. “Let’s go.”

He gets back on his horse and holds his hand out. I take it and he pulls me up into the saddle in front of him. He reaches around me to hold the reins and nudges his horse to walk. I stiffen a bit in surprise at the feeling of his arms around me, but he doesn’t seem hesitant to be this close to me.

“So is everyone here?” Sylvain asks.

“Yes. They all made it.”

“Oh boy, that is good news. I owe a certain someone an apology for being stuck up in Faerghus too long, and maybe a kiss.” He flicks the reins and gallops off towards the monastery. 

But Felix keeps his horse at a slower pace as we ride in silence. After a few minutes, I relax a bit and lean back against his chest. My mind is still reeling in disbelief that he is older than me now, that he is a man. I can feel a strength to his presence that he didn’t used to have, a calm self-assurance that five years of war must have forged in him.

“I wasn’t sure if you would come,” I finally manage to say.

He doesn’t reply for a moment, then when he does his voice is low and rough with constrained emotion. “I wasn’t sure if I would. Syl wanted to, but I didn’t see the point in coming back here. It would have felt so empty without…”

He doesn’t finish the thought, but I know what he intended to say because it is what I had been thinking too. The joy of being back in the monastery had felt hollow without my closest friend. As much as I love all my students, there has always been a barrier between them and me that no amount of bonding can quite get rid of. 

Only Felix had treated me like an equal during those school days - insolently so at times, and yet I had appreciated it. I had felt less alone when I was around him. I had tried to adapt to the new life Rhea gave me when she made me a professor, but it felt foreign at times, and I had worried that I was unsuited to it after spending my life mostly in either solitude or battle.

I don’t need to talk with Felix unless I want to. I don’t need to try to be something I am not around him. To him, I’m a sparring partner and a fellow warrior more than a professor. 

Thank the goddess he is still alive and I didn’t have to wake up to a world without the friend I value most.

“Why were you out here alone? Are you asking for trouble?” he says in a sharp tone. “Have you missed fighting so much you had to go off looking for danger? This place isn’t safe anymore. It’s stupid to be out here on your own. Do you even have a weapon?”

“I’m fine,” I say.

“Hmph. You’ve been asleep for years apparently. You’re probably rusty.”

His insult provokes me and in a flash, I slip the dagger from my boot and flick it around to rest the tip against his neck. “Try me.”

I hear Felix scoff quietly with laughter. “You won’t prove anything without a proper sparring match.”

“Then we will settle this in the training grounds at dawn.”

“Very well. But you’d better put up a good fight. There won’t be any satisfaction in beating you if you’re just weak from sleeping.”

“Bold of you to assume you will beat me,” I say.

“Of course I will. I’ve had a lot of opportunities to use my sword these five years.” He hesitates then adds, “Too much.”

In his tone I hear all the grief of the war he has been fighting and the battles that he should have been able to face with me by his side. I lower my head to stare at the ground, not knowing how to reply.

How could I have left everyone alone? Right as they needed me most, I let them down. Even if they forgive me for it, I might never forgive myself.

Felix’s arms tighten around me a bit and he shifts slightly so I am pressed closer to his chest. We ride the rest of the way in silence and when we pass through the gates, Felix swings down from the saddle and heads towards the entrance hall.

I fall into step beside him and we walk together wordlessly through the rooms and hallways until we cross the bridge and enter the cathedral.

“Felix!” Mercedes cries as soon as we set foot inside, running over and throwing her arms around him.

He smiles slightly and hugs her. “So you’re here too.”

“Of course I am!” she replies brightly as she lets go of him and steps away. “Ferdie and I were sure everyone would show up. And here we all are! It’s like a dream seeing everyone again.”

Ferdinand comes over and takes Mercedes’s hand. “Felix! I am glad to see you are alive and well,” he says with typical Ferdinand sincerity and enthusiasm.

Felix gives him an expressionless stare for a second then walks away to where the others are gathered.

Ferdinand sighs. “I fear he still dislikes me.”

“You stole me away from Faerghus. Of course he does. But he’ll come round now that we are all back together,” Mercedes says. “Right, Professor?”

“Right,” I lie and leave them to talk together.

I watch as Felix endures the greetings of his old classmates. But he doesn’t say anything sarcastic and he doesn’t shove people away when they hug him. The only time his polite composure breaks is when Sylvain laughs and grabs him, lifting him off his feet and spinning him around.

“I’m so happy to see you again, buddy!” Sylvain says as if it had been years for him too.

“Shut up, you fucking idiot,” he growls.

“What? I just wanted to join in the fun!”

“Felix,” Petra says, moving past Sylvain to smile at him. “I have been training with much determination. I think you will not so easily get the victory on me now.”

“It was never easy to beat you,” he says.

I look around at the merry group and my heart, although unbeating, swells with happiness nonetheless. We Golden Deer have always been able to find joy in dark times. I am glad that much has not changed.

I go over to Claude and say, “We’re still missing one person. Where is Ashe?”

His smile fades. “He’s been fighting for House Rowe from what I hear. But maybe if he knows that you’re alive and that all of us are together again he will join our side.”

The lightheartedness of the moment slips away from me. Maybe it was too much to hope that I would see all my friends again.

“Hey, Teach, don’t look so forlorn. We’ll get him back. Trust me,” Claude adds.

I look up to meet his eyes and the steadfast hope in them reassures me. I nod and smile faintly.

“The tide’s turning. I can feel it,” he says and despite my grim thoughts, I believe him.

Before I can reply, Hilda waltzes over and says, “Claude, stop hogging the professor’s attention. Besides, it’s time to eat.”

“Who’s cooking?” he asks.

“Me. It turns out most of you good-for-nothing people don’t know how. Until we can hire some proper help, I’ll be stuck doing everything myself,” she says with a pout.

Claude swears under his breath and says, “You know what, Hilda? I can give you a hand.”

“You will? How sweet of you!”

“I’m not being sweet. I’m trying to avoid disaster,” he says, following her out of the cathedral.

Many of the others drift off towards the dining hall too but I linger, gazing up at the heap of rubble where the altar once stood. I hear footsteps and glance over to see Petra standing beside me.

“This place would be giving me great sadness if I wasn’t so happy to see everyone again,” she says.

“We’ll rebuild it. It’s our home again.”

“I am glad Claude has recovered his dream. I came back from Brigid because I was holding hope the whole time that he would. Now that we have you with us, we can be striking back at the empire at last. I have waited too long for that. You have my gratitude, Professor, for making that chance real.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“I do not think you are needing to do anything. You bring us together so that we may be doing the things ourselves. That is a very important gift.”


	2. Fistfight in the Starlight

###  Felix

“Psst! Fee, wake up!” Sylvain hisses in my ear.

I swat him away, growling a curse.

“Wake up! It’s important,” he says.

“Are we under attack?” I ask without emerging from my cocoon of blankets.

“No.”

“Is something on fire?”

“No. But-”

“Then leave me the fuck alone.”

“Fee!” he says insistently. “There is a damsel in distress who needs you.”

“Damsels are your problem not mine.” I open my eyes and squint angrily at the clock on the wall. “It’s one in the morning. I have a duel at dawn. Let me sleep.”

“Your sparring partner won’t be in much state to fight if you don’t do something.”

That gets me to sit up at last. I look over at Sylvain, who is sitting on the edge of my bed, still dressed, although his hair is a mess and his shirt is missing a button. He is just now coming in from a night of drinking and carousing no doubt.

“Did something happen to Byleth?” I ask.

“I don’t know but when I was coming back to the dorms just now, I passed by the greenhouse and I heard someone crying. I poked my head in to make sure everything was okay and I saw it was her.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do about that? Seems like a personal problem,” I reply.

Sylvain gives me a look like I am being an idiot. “Crying,” he says again. “Have you ever seen the professor so much as shed a tear before? Something is wrong. Seriously wrong. So get your miserable ass over there and talk to her. One of us has to but I’m pretty drunk and I’ll probably just say something stupid. I mean, you probably will too, but at least it will be the kind of stupid thing that won’t come off as hitting on her, like I would.”

“Just go get Mercy or someone.”

“I couldn’t find her.”

“Try Claude.”

“He’s asleep.”

“Why can’t you wake him up, not me?”

“Because I’m avoiding him. Knocking on his door in the middle of the night will give him the wrong idea and I’m trying really hard to play it cool.”

I snort. “Good luck with that.”

“Shut up. I can be hard-to-get if I want to. Anyways, you’re more of Byleth’s friend than anyone else. So go. Get up!” he says, grabbing my clothes and boots and throwing them at me emphatically.

“Fine,” I grumble, pulling aside the covers and getting dressed.

Sylvain smiles at me proudly as I head to the door and it makes me want to tell him to go fuck off, but I keep the curse to myself, knowing he is just trying to be kind. 

Closing the door behind me as I leave, I walk calmly down the hall. But when I’m sure I’m far enough away that Sylvain can’t hear me, I break into a run and bolt down the stairs and through the halls and courtyard until I come to the greenhouse.

I hesitate for a moment outside its doors, realizing that I have no idea what to say or why I am even here.

But how many times has Sylvain let me cry on his shoulder and listened to me over the years? It’s what a friend does. I may not be a crybaby kid anymore, thank the goddess, but I still owe someone this. I’ve been the distraught one enough times that I should suck it up and try to return the favor.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door and step into the greenhouse. The glass roof has been broken and the warm atmosphere has been permeated by the winter cold, leaving the flowers and herbs to wither.

I summon a small flame to my hand to illuminate the darkness and catch sight of Byleth. She is in the far corner, sitting beneath a plum tree, half-hidden by the scraggly dead ferns around its base.

“Felix?” she says, looking up at me with wide, startled eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Shit. What am I doing here?

“Syl was looking for you,” I answer without thinking.

“Sylvain? Why?”

“He, uh, needed advice.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“Well, most of the things that idiot needs advice about usually deal with what he does in the middle of the night,” I reply.

Byleth laughs faintly and sniffs. So she was crying. 

As I come over to sit beside her, the firelight illuminates her face enough that I can see the redness around her eyes and tear streaks on her skin. Her eyes are dry now, but there is a haunted look to them that frightens me a little. She had that look when I first met her all those years ago. Over the course of her year at the monastery a lot of warmth and life had come to her eyes. But at first, they looked just like this: so carefully guarded that no emotion at all managed to slip through. 

A lot of the others speculated that she just didn’t feel emotion. I always reckoned she was just great at hiding it when she needed to and shit at showing it when she wanted to. I certainly knew what that was like.

“How are we supposed to train at dawn if you’re still awake? You won’t put up much of a fight sleep-deprived,” I say. “It’ll just be a waste of my time.”

“What time is it?” she asks.

“Past one.”

“I’ll find some coffee in the morning. I’ll be fine.”

“We could spar now, of course, if you are really dead-set on not sleeping,” I offer.

She holds up her hand and looks at it. It’s trembling like a leaf. “I don’t think I’d stand a chance at the moment. Not against you.”

Sylvain was right. Something is definitely wrong with her. She looks downright human.

I get up and nod towards the dining hall. “Tea?”

"We don't have any in our storehouse. We’re stretched pretty thin.”

“Hm. We’ll see about that,” I say. “Come on.”

I beckon for her to follow me and we leave the greenhouse, heading for the grassy courtyard. On the far side of it is a little patch of trees growing near the wall and I am pretty certain one of them is an Almyran pine.

“Aha,” I say. “Here, give me a leg up.”

“What are you doing?”

“Being resourceful. Come on.”

She holds out her hands and gives me a boost so I can jump up and reach the lowest branch of the tall pine. The rough bark scrapes my hands but I ignore it, hoisting myself up onto the tree limb. A little bit further up there is a cluster of fresh needles and I gather a handful and tuck them into my pocket.

When I drop back down to the ground, I can see the barest hint of a smile on Byleth’s lips. Maybe it is my imagination, but she looks a little less like a ghost now.

I head over to the dining hall and rummage around in the cupboard until I find a rusty old teapot. I fill it with water and rip up the pine needles, scattering them in the pot. By the time the water is steaming, the wonderful, heady scent of evergreen has filled the kitchen. I take a deep breath of it and feel it ease a bit of my stiffness away.

Mercedes always makes tea when someone is sad. I figure it’s a good place to start.

I pour it into two mugs and hand one to Byleth. She blows on it to cool it and takes a sip with a soft, appreciative ‘ _ mm.’ _

I should ask her what is troubling her, shouldn’t I? But what am I supposed to say if she tells me?  _ ‘That sounds rough.’  _ Fuck if I know what the right thing to say is. I don’t usually have to do the talking when Sylvain or Mercedes is around. Why did I come here?

Because I've missed her more than I could ever say. Because she is in pain. Because she looks lonely and hell do I know that feeling better than anyone.

“Sleep-deprivation makes you a liability in a battle,” I say. “You should rest.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she says, staring down at her tea.

“Why not?”

It is a long moment before she replies and when she does it is so quietly I almost can’t hear her. “What if I don’t wake up again?”

Now all this makes a little more sense.

“You think you’re going to pass out for another five years?” I ask.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I wasn’t sleeping so much as just… I think it was more like being dead. I can’t explain it, but the idea of slipping back into that darkness frightens me. I can’t abandon you all again.”

“Well at least now if you fall into your death sleep on accident, we have some mages around to wake you up. Lysithea knows all kinds of crazy dark magic. She can hex you back to life, I’m sure.”

Byleth just nods.

We sip our tea in silence for a few minutes and when my cup is empty, I set it to the side and say, “Follow me.”

“You should go get some rest. You’ve travelled a long way,” she says.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

The training grounds are locked up at this hour and I don’t have my key anymore, so I lead her out to the lawn again, kicking aside some fallen branches and rubble to clear a large circle on the frost-withered grass.

“Should I go get my sword?” she asks.

“Best not wield swords with shaking hands. I don’t want it to go flying and cut my head off,” I say. “We’ll use our fists.”

“You think you can beat me in a brawling match?” she asks, a bit of energy returning to her distant manner.

“We’ll see,” I answer.

I center my balance and raise my fists. Byleth does the same, circling me warily. To my surprise, she attacks first, lunging forward in that graceful, terrifying way of hers. How is she so light on her feet while also hitting like a sledgehammer?

I block her strike with my arm and swing a counter at her, but I can’t land the hit. Back and forth we fight, attacking, blocking, countering, dodging and striking - the only kind of dance I am any good at. As we fight, I can see the hungry, single-minded focus take over her body as if by instinct and it reassures me. Whatever has happened to her these years, she is still the cold-blooded mercenary I know.

Finally she lands a hit straight to my sternum that knocks the wind out of me. I manage to evade another hit and growl a curse under my breath. Okay, no going easy on her anymore. Now I’m not doing this to be nice. Now I’m going to beat her.

I give it all I’ve got, pushing her back step by step until she is reaching the edge of the circle. But she doesn’t lash out in a panic like some people do when cornered. She keeps her head clear and waits for an opening in my defense. She is not going to find it, though. I’ve got this under control. Nothing is going to-

“Shit!” I swear in pain as she strikes like lightning and I find myself down on the ground, my legs kicked out from under me. She is on top of me before I can jump back to my feet, pinning me down.

She smiles at me in triumph and I smile back, too happy to see that look on her face to mind being beaten. I was the one who got too cocky and let my guard down anyways. She won fair and square.

She is panting for breath, her small hands still holding me pinned down with a grip like iron. Suddenly, a stunned look passes across her face and her eyes widen a bit. I feel my face get hot and realize furiously that I must be blushing.

What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I feel so out of sorts all of a sudden?

Why isn’t she getting off of me? Why is she staring at me like a startled deer?

She is so close I can feel her breath on my skin and it is so distracting that my eyes stray to her lips and my head feels a bit dizzy, but not from the fight.

Fuck. She has never looked at me like that before. Fuck. What do I do?

“I won,” she whispers, stirring out of her daze a bit.

But I can’t stop staring at her mouth, wondering what it would be like to feel her this close to me in a context other than a fight.

“Yes. You did,” I answer a little breathlessly.

Byleth smiles and gets off of me. “I’m not too rusty after all.”

I recover my composure enough to answer, “You still let yourself get backed to the edge of the ring. You can do better.”

“You’re right. I need to train harder if I want to get my strength back,” she says. She sighs and lies down on her back.

I glance over at her and wonder what is going on in that crazy head of hers. Her cheeks are flushed slightly and she is still catching her breath from the exertion of our fight. The wind in the trees causes shadows to play across her face in the moonlight, and with her hair splayed out on the grass around her and her eyes gazing up at the night sky, I can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks.

It’s not like I wasn’t aware of the fact. She has always been beautiful. But it was just a trait of hers like any other, no more significant than the tone of her voice or the way she holds a sword. Why does it suddenly feel so remarkable?

Why did she look at me like that when she was on top of me? It was like she was seeing a stranger for the first time. Have I changed that much?

I suppose I have. Last she remembers, I was barely an adult, still a student and not a soldier. I guess it must be strange to look at me and see someone she both recognizes and doesn’t.

“Felix?” she says, startling me out of my thoughts.

“What?”

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t let you win if that’s what you think,” I say.

“No, I meant thank you for making me feel like myself again. I got a little lost in my own head.”

“That’s why we train, isn’t it? So we don’t have to be in our own heads for a while.”

“Mhm.”

I shift to lie on my side so I can look at her. Studying her sad, but peaceful expression with a frown, I ask, “Why were you crying earlier? I didn’t know you cried.”

“What? How did you know I was-”

“Sylvain sent me. He was walking by the greenhouse and heard you.”

“Why did he send you?” she asks.

“Hell if I know. I told him to get someone else but he insisted I go try to figure out what was wrong with you. He’s going to keep hounding me about it if I go back to the dorms without accomplishing my mission. So tell me what’s wrong.”

She pauses, then answers, “I wasn’t meant to be a teacher. I was meant to be a warrior. Now a war has come and instead of standing beside you, I was gone. Even if it wasn’t of my own will, I still abandoned all of you right when I finally had a chance to be of some use to you.”

“You’ve already been of use to us. A lot of the other students might not have survived this long without your training,” I reply. “That healing spell you forced Syl to learn saved his ass in a battle once. He’d be dead without you and considering that in the following battle he saved my life, I suppose it means I’d probably be dead too.”

“Stop,” she says. “It isn’t like you to say kind lies to comfort someone. The truth is that I should have been there and I wasn’t. Don’t pretend it’s not.”

“Byleth,” I say firmly.

She doesn’t reply.

I put my hand on her shoulder and turn her over to face me. As much as I still find it uncomfortable sometimes to look into her eyes so steadily, I need her to understand how serious I am, because if she doesn’t believe me, she isn’t going to believe anyone.

“You really think I would say some nice bullshit to try to make you feel better? You know me better. I might be an ass most of the time, but I’d never lie to you. So listen to me, okay? You died five years ago. We grieved for you - all of us. Now you’re back by some inexplicable whim of the goddess and I don’t give a fuck how or why or whether things should or shouldn’t have turned out this way. You’re alive and you’re here now.”

She opens her mouth slightly to say something but can’t seem to find the words. Breaking eye contact, she looks over my shoulder for a moment. Damn it. She is as awkward as me sometimes. How the hell did we even become friends when both of us are so bad at talking?

I wait for her to reply, but instead of speaking, she looks back at me with a faint smile and reaches her hand out. I expect her to put it on my shoulder or something, seeing as mine is still resting on hers. But her fingers brush my forehead as she tucks the hair falling in my eyes behind my ear.

The simple touch stuns me a little. Normally I would tell someone to back off if they made some stupid gesture like that. But instead I find myself hoping she will do it again. It feels different with her. Affection always seems so patronizing from other people. I didn’t realize how good it feels when it is genuine.

She moves her hand away but I catch it in mine and hold onto it, not wanting the distance to return between us.

“Are you still beating yourself up in your head?” I ask.

“No,” she says. “That’s not what I’m thinking about at all anymore.”

“Oh? What are you thinking about then?”

“That you’re different now. The same in the important ways, but still different. I want to understand what’s changed.”

“How am I different?”

“You’re older.”

“That’s how time works for most of us.”

“I know. I meant that you’re so…”

When she trails off without finishing the thought, I’m curious enough that I can’t help but ask, “I’m what?”

She doesn’t answer and I say, “I’m going to assume I haven’t changed for the better then if you’re too scared to say it to my face.”

“No.”

“I haven’t?” I ask, feeling self-conscious. What is wrong with me? I think I have improved a lot since my school days.

“I meant that no, I’m not scared to say it. I just don’t quite know how,” she says. “Besides, you hate it when I comment on anything other than your swordsmanship. Why do you want to know so much what I think?”

“I’m just trying to make conversation. That’s one thing that’s changed about me - my tolerance for talking has gone up. I had to learn eventually, I guess.”

She smiles. “Maybe you can be my teacher now.”

“Well, the first step of conversation is usually answering people’s questions. You don’t have to answer them well or honestly. You can say complete bullshit if you want. But you have to answer. It’s an obligation if you want the conversation to continue.”

“And do you want the conversation to continue? You’ve accomplished your mission. You found out what was wrong and you even managed to cheer me up. You don’t have to stay here with me anymore.”

“Spending time with you isn’t so bad,” I reply. “Beats being alone, as long as you pull your weight and don’t leave me burdened with all the talking.”

“Fine!” she says. “Stop pressuring me. You want to know what I was thinking?”

“I didn’t care until you refused to tell me. But yes, now I do.”

Byleth looks like she is steeling her nerves for battle. She looks me in the eyes and says, “You’re a man now and you aren’t my student anymore.”

“That’s the profound observation I had to work so hard to pry out of you? Really? Why does it matter so much anyways?” I ask.

Her hand that had been resting on my shoulder moves suddenly to the back of my neck and her fingers slip into my hair. My mind races wildly as I understand what she has been struggling to say this whole time.

“It matters to me,” she says. “There are a lot of things that matter more that should be on my mind right now but that’s all that I can think about. It’s stunning, to say the least. Confusing.”

She still looks tentative and a little scared. She thinks I’m going to shove her away and reject her, because that’s what idiotic younger Felix would have done. But she is right. I have changed, even if I didn’t quite know it myself until just now.

Carefully, because it feels dangerous to touch something so delicate with my tough, calloused hands, I brush my fingers across her cheek, marveling at how smooth it feels. My gaze lowers to her mouth again and I lean in closer, excitement thrilling through me when she catches her breath and her lips part slightly in anticipation.

She tangles her fingers tighter in my hair and I know I don’t have the willpower to keep my emotions in check. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her closer and kiss her deeply. She responds with equal enthusiasm, that strange tentative Byleth vanishing, replaced by the confident one I have seen so many times before in a fight: the one who doesn’t hold back or doubt herself.

Then suddenly she stops and stares at me with wide eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She takes my hand and places it on her chest, right above her heart. “It feels so strange,” she says.

“What does?”

“It’s beating,” she whispers.

“Does it not usually?” I ask in alarm.

“Not since Sothis died to save me. I thought a part of me died that day too. But it’s beating again. What a strange feeling.”

I lean my ear against her chest and listen to the heartbeat. It’s a bit irregular but she’s right; it’s pounding as hard as mine.

Byleth laughs softly in amazement.

“You are one strange woman,” I say.

“I’m sorry,” she replies.

“Shut up. Don’t be sorry.”

I tilt my head up to kiss her neck, delighting in the sensation of her soft skin under my lips. How could I have not realized how much I wanted this? How could I have been so absurdly distracted by thoughts of battle and training to ever consider how incredible it could feel to touch her and kiss her?

Thank the goddess I didn’t waste months finding this out. Enough time has been lost. I’m not losing any more.

Byleth’s hands roam across my body as I kiss her neck. I catch a bit of skin with my teeth impulsively and enjoy the sound of her gasping and her fingers tightening into a fist as she grips a handful of my coat.

“Felix,” she whispers.

“What?” I murmur, continuing to kiss her.

“We can’t stay out here. It’s freezing and… public.”

I stop and let go of her. “Oh fuck.” We are out in the open, aren’t we? There is enough moonlight that if someone were to walk by, they would easily see us. And even though it is the middle of the night, that doesn’t necessarily mean everyone is asleep. It’s the evening of our big reunion. Many of them are likely still drinking and partying.

I am never going to hear the end of it if someone catches me out here kissing her. They all still seem to think of her as the professor, like they can’t see the fact that she has always been our equal and we have always been hers.

Claude will kill me. Well, he will try at least. I can take that bastard. I don’t care how strong he’s gotten. I could kick his ass in a fight… unless he brought his wyvern along.

Byleth stands up and holds her hand out to me. I take it and get to my feet, suddenly feeling awkward and keenly aware of the fact that I have just dived headlong into something and I’m not even sure what it is.

Fuck it. If you make a decision in a battle, you commit to it. Hesitance is a liability. To second-guess your instincts is dangerous.

“Sylvain is in my room. We can't go there," I say, pulling her with me as I set out across the lawn.

“Where are you going? The training grounds? They’re still locked. I can burn the lock off with a spell, but it’ll need some cleaning up before we can have a proper sparring match in it. It might be-”

“You quarters,” I interrupt.

“What?”

“You said yourself - it’s cold out here. We’ll go to your room. You need sleep and maybe if I’m there to keep an eye on you, you won’t worry too much about not being able to wake up.”

She has to jog to keep up with me, but I don’t feel like slowing down. Now that I have set my course, my determination to see it through has turned to an excitement that I have to struggle to contain so I don’t start smiling like some idiot.


	3. Heartbeats

###  Byleth

My heart is still pounding and the exhilarating sensation makes me dizzy. Felix keeps hold of my hand, leading me impatiently through the monastery grounds until we come to my quarters on the far side of the lower floor of dormitories.

The second we step inside, he slams the door shut behind me and shoves me up against it, kissing me so intently it overwhelms me. But I focus my distracted thoughts and match his enthusiasm. I’ve never been one to back down.

Undoing the buttons on his long coat, I pull it off him and throw it to the side. When I slip my hands under his shirt and run them across the bare skin on his back he shivers. He stops kissing me for a moment and leans his forehead against mine, panting for breath.

“Take this ridiculous thing off,” he says, fumbling with one of the buckles on my intricate leather armor.

“Ridiculous?” I ask.

“It’s not going to stop a sword, is it? So what’s its function?”

“I don’t know. But I thought it looked good on me,” I answer.

He smiles slightly and gets down on his knees to unstrap my belt. He pauses when he sees the dagger sheath. “You still have that thing?”

He draws the toothed dagger and admires it in the candlelight.

“It’s my favorite weapon. It suits me more than a sword. Besides, it’s important to me.”

“Why?”

“Because it was one of the first gifts I was ever given that I actually liked.”

Felix smiles and sheathes the dagger, setting it to the side. He takes off my belt and as I pull the leather corset up over my head, he kisses my stomach and hips, his hands wandering up my legs to my thighs.

Now my heart is beating so hard my chest aches. Grabbing his shoulders, I pull him back to his feet and push him over to the bed. He strips down to the waist and kicks off his boots as I take off the rest of my clothes.

He watches me with a stunned, enchanted look like I’ve cast some sort of spell on him. It reminds me of the time we found that legendary heirloom sword in one of the monastery vaults and he had stared at it with awe like he didn’t think it was even real.

He swears under his breath and pulls me down onto the bed, kissing me. I run my hands across his back, enjoying the wonderful warmth of his skin and the way his muscles tighten as he props himself up on top of me. Scars lace across his chest and back and arms here and there, and I realize that they are one of many things that have changed in his body these past years.

He is so different. But he is still Felix. 

Meeting him today felt like waking up all over again, but this time with a kick in the stomach. It was disorienting and overwhelming to realize that there existed a whole part of myself that I was never aware of – the part that now wants him more than I have ever wanted anything before.

He has his hair tied back in some complicated knot, but I manage to pull it free so it can fall across his shoulders. I run my fingers through the long, silky strands, then tangle my hands in it and yank his head back so I can kiss his neck. I bite the skin on his neck below his ear then run my tongue over the mark, drawing a quiet groan from him.

“I brought you here so you could rest," he says in a husky voice.

I bite him again, harder this time, and say, “Don’t pretend like you want me to go to sleep.”

“Fine.”

He grabs my wrists and moves my hands out of his hair, pinning them down against the pillows. For another minute, he kisses my lips then he leans down and slowly moves his way across my neck and collarbones until he reaches my breasts. My breath hitches in anticipation and when his mouth finally comes to my nipples, his tongue running in small circles around them, I whimper in pleasure.

He looks up at me with bright, excited eyes and kisses more intently, his lips and tongue driving me out of my mind.

After a minute, he stops and asks breathlessly, “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to finally get out of those tight pants,” I answer.

He gets up to take them off and smiles teasingly at me as I stare at his naked body. “You alright? You look like you were hit with a lightning spell.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” I say, yanking him back down onto the bed. I straddle him and grind my hips against his until he starts to kiss me hungrily, his hands moving across my back to my hips. 

My body is hot with arousal and I can feel him growing hard as well. He lifts me off of him and lays me down on my back. Moving his hand down between my legs, he slips his fingers inside me and watches with a satisfied smirk as I open my mouth, breath racing and a soft moan escaping my lips.

He takes his time, thrusting his fingers in and stroking at the spot that sends racing thrills of sensation through me. I can’t help but move my hips impatiently, pushing down against his fingers until I am practically fucking myself on them.

What he is doing feels incredible, but I want more. I grab his wrist and pull it away.

He understands and gets on top of me. I wrap my legs around his waist and reach down to guide him inside me. With a gasp, he closes his eyes and a look of pleasure furrows his brow. When he is sure I am ready, he thrusts into me deeper. 

He groans and I clamp my hand over his mouth so no one will hear us. But soon I forget about trying to be discreet, too caught up in the feeling of him pushing in faster and rougher to care. 

Then he grabs my ankles and lifts them to rest on his shoulders and I see stars as he thrusts in at the new angle, going so deep that it hurts in a dizzying, wonderful kind of way. 

“Oh fuck,” he groans. “Fuck!”

He is completely overcome, mouth open, eyes closed, all self-consciousness lost as grunts, moans and breathless clipped cries escape his lips. I get a little distracted by him for a moment until he grips the headboard in one hand and fucks me even harder.

I stop thinking and close my eyes, moaning along with him. When he can tell I'm close to an orgasm, he leans down to kiss me eagerly, almost frantically. I cry out a curse, muffled by his lips, as my body tightens and I feel the shivering electric currents of the orgasm racing through me all the way to my toes. 

I reach up and scrape my fingernails across his back, listening in delight as it makes him gasp and swear loudly. 

“Fuck! Shit, I’m gonna come. Do you want me to-”

“Inside me,” I answer before he can even finish the question.

He groans and after a few more thrusts, his body shudders and I feel the satisfying sensation of his orgasm inside me. His movements slow until he is done. Leaning his forehead against mine, he whispers, "Fucking hell, Byleth." 

He stays there for a minute, panting for breath, still pushing into me with slow, lingering thrusts. Then he slips out and collapses down onto the sheets next to me, eyes closed and a blissful expression on his face.

I watch him catch his breath, feeling a little stunned by what just happened. Sex has never felt that good before in my life. In fact, I’ve never really cared for it much and hadn’t spared it much thought after my first couple curious encounters with it. But this… this is a whole new experience. Felix fucks the way he fights: intense, unhesitating, his whole body and mind focused on each movement. I see now why people enjoy sex so much, why they would crave it and pursue it. I would do a lot to be lucky enough to experience that again.

"Was that good for you?" he asks, rolling over to look at me.

I don't know how to express it specifically. All I can say is, "Yes."

"I should have known you'd be like this," he says.

"Like what?"

"Like me."

I brush his hair out of his eyes fondly. "I don't think there's anyone quite like you."

He laughs and the sound makes me smile. I so rarely hear him laugh. And I have never seen him look as natural and unguarded as he does now. It's wonderful to think that I'm seeing a side of him most other people probably haven't before.

“You should definitely get some sleep now.” He glances at the clock and says, “You have three hours before dawn.”

“You still intend to hold me to my promise to spar with you?” I ask.

“You intend to back out of it?”

“No,” I mumble, burying my face in the pillow. “I’ll do my best to rest while I can so I put up a proper fight.”

“You’d better,” he says. He traces his fingers in idle patterns across my back and adds, “I’m glad I came back to Garreg Mach.”

“Me too.”

In a gesture of surprising affection, he kisses my cheek. I glance over at him and he looks away awkwardly. “Get some sleep now,” he says gruffly and turns over to face away from me.

I smile and pull the covers up over us. It is much easier to quiet my mind now and my fear of falling asleep fades in the safety and warmth of Felix’s presence. Before I know it, I am drifting off, my heart still softly beating.


	4. Attack on Garreg Mach

### Felix

I wake at dawn, the sheer force of habit impossible to overcome despite the lost hours of sleep last night. But I can’t make myself get out of bed and head to the training hall, not while she is lying next to me. 

She kicked off half the sheets while she slept and is now curled up hugging one of the pillows, sprawled diagonally across the bed. But the sight of her naked body in the pale morning light steals my breath away and I can’t resent her for taking up well over half the bed.

She is so beautiful, but not in a soft and delicate way. There are scars laced across her skin from more battles than she can count and the curves of her body are firm with muscle. She might seem small, especially now that I’ve grown a bit taller, but her body is strong as steel and tight as a bowstring.

I’ve known plenty of warrior women, as pretty as they are powerful. But Byleth is the first one who I have ever truly appreciated like this. She is certainly the first woman I have abandoned the strict tradition of my dawn training for so I can stay in bed with her a little longer. 

Byleth stirs a bit and rolls closer, flinging her arm around my waist. I stiffen at the sudden physical contact, then remind myself that I am going to have to get used to this if I intend to–

As soon as I realize what I’m thinking, fear hits me like a slap in the face and I extricate myself from Byleth’s arms quickly, slipping out of bed without waking her and bolting over to the other side of the room. I lean against the wall, hands clenched into fists and stare at her.

If I intend to be with her? To fall in love with her?

What the fuck am I thinking? Have I lost my fucking mind? Why the hell would I set myself up for failure like that? I don’t take on losing battles.

Back in our monastery days, we were good friends, but as much as I admired her, I knew it was only the business-like bond of comrades, not true friendship like I have with Sylvain or Mercy. Byleth doesn’t get that close to anyone. Even now that she has made her attraction to me pretty clear, I still don’t know if it is accompanied by any kind of real feeling. She was distraught and lonely last night and like the idiot I am, I didn’t even think to consider that fact.

Fuck. This is why I don’t let myself climb into bed with someone I actually care about, even though that connection is exactly what makes the sex so satisfying. I have never learned to control that infuriatingly irrational side of me that dives far too quickly into attachment. The best I’ve ever learned to do is just not let most people close enough that I risk growing attached to them.

I’m stuck with Syl and Mercy. They got too close to me too long ago and now I have to live with the terror of losing one of them every time we march to battle. Why would I add someone else to the list of people who keep me up at night worrying over? Two is quite enough. Too many in fact.

I dealt with my grief at losing Byleth once before. If I let this go on with her, if I let myself get attached to her, it will only make it so much more painful when I inevitably lose her again. She has no regard for her own life. She would throw it away in a heartbeat to protect one of us. I have seen it countless times. 

Whatever luck or divine blessing she has will run out one day and I’ll be left picking her corpse up out of the mud on a battlefield and sobbing like a pathetic child the way I did when we lost Annette the day the monastery fell. It was years before I recovered from losing her. I’m not even sure I have entirely, or ever will. I’m not going through that again with another person. I’ve lost enough friends.

I can’t do that again. I just can’t. Maybe if Byleth loved me, it would be worth the fear. But if the depth of feeling is one-sided it just isn’t worth that kind of pain.

The thought makes me feel sick with disappointment and I look longingly at her, wanting so badly to get back into bed and kiss her awake, to feel her body against mine and see that dumb smile on her face that I inexplicably have a knack for provoking. 

I get dressed and walk over to the door, cracking it open and scanning the perimeter. I have to make it out of here without anyone seeing me or they will give me hell and make all this a thousand times worse.

The click of armored boots catches my attention and I duck back into the room, silently closing the door and locking it. I press my back against it so anyone looking in the window can’t see me and wait for whoever it is to pass on by. But the footsteps stop outside the door.

“Hey, Teach, you in there?” Claude asks, knocking.

Shit!

My mind races with possible outcomes of this situation. I could take Claude in a fight since he is wyvern-less at the moment. He has armor on, though, and I don’t. I also only have my fists and Byleth’s toothed dagger. But I could probably still take him. Maybe if I yelled Sylvain would show up and have my back. He could be snooping around somewhere trying to figure out what happened to me last night. 

Claude knocks on the door again and Byleth jerks awake, sitting up and glancing around with a groggy, disoriented look.

“Teach?” Claude says. “We have a bit of a situation going on outside the walls that I could use a hand with!”

Byleth wakes up enough to register the fact that I am pressed up against the door with a panicked look and her eyes widen. She mouths a curse then calls out to Claude, “What kind of situation?”

“The kind that you’ll need to armor up for,” he answers.

Byleth swears and stumbles out of bed, pulling on her clothes. “I’ll be right there! Meet me in the reception hall.”

“I need to talk strategy with you. We can’t afford to wait!” Claude insists.

“Just go! I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

“Are you okay, Teach? You don’t sound so good. Is something wrong?” Claude asks.

Then I hear running footsteps and Sylvain’s voice calls, “Hey, have you seen Fee? I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Where did you last see him?” Claude says. “You don’t think he went out there to fight on his own, do you?”

“He went to talk to the professor late last night. I haven’t seen him since,” Sylvain says and I want to wring his neck. Why would he throw me to the wolves like this? That son of a bitch! He probably finds the whole thing hilarious. 

Oh for the love of Seiros. Fuck this. Fuck all this.

Yanking open the door, I stare icily at Claude and Sylvain. Byleth appears at my side, strapping on her sword belt and asks, “Are we under attack?”

But Claude and Sylvain are too flabbergasted to reply for a second. Claude’s brow is furrowed in confusion but Sylvain has the biggest, dopiest grin on his face.

“Claude,” Byleth says firmly. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“We, uh… That gang we fought yesterday has come back with reinforcements. They’re trying to break through the gates,” he answers.

“Round up what knights we have left. Clear everyone away from the marketplace. We’ll fight them there,” Byleth orders.

Claude nods and hurries away but Sylvain remains outside the door, still grinning at me.

“What are you looking at?” Byleth demands sharply. “Go check all the other entrances to the monastery to make sure they are blocked and fortified. Go!”

“Sure thing, Professor,” he says with a laugh and runs off.

Byleth sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. “Good morning, Felix,” she says.

“I’ll meet you in the market.” I bolt off to go retrieve my weapons and armor, morbidly grateful we are under attack simply because it will postpone the inevitable questions. Maybe if I’m lucky, everyone will be too preoccupied and exhausted after the fight to give a damn about me.

Once I am armed and ready, I run to the marketplace and join Byleth, Ferdinand and Hilda who are on the front line. Claude and Petra are in the saddle of Claude’s wyvern, circling above us, bows drawn. The front gates are heaving with the force of a battering ram and the thatched roofs of the market stalls are in flames from fire arrows which the Knights of Seiros, led by Marianne and Dorothea, are trying to keep from spreading to the monastery.

I look around for Sylvain but he must be busy securing the other entrances like Byleth ordered. I catch sight of Mercedes towards the back of our tiny army, healing magic glowing in her hands and a fiercely determined frown on her face.

“Where is everyone?” I ask, noticing that some of the Golden Deer are missing and Seteth is gone too.

“They left last night to rally more reinforcements,” Ferdinand says. “It is just us. But I have faith we can prevail now that we have our professor by our side once more!”

I shoot him an annoyed look. How can he be so cheerful all the time? What the hell is wrong with him?

“How many are out there?” I ask.

“At least sixty,” Ferdinand says.

“Shit,” I mutter. 

The four of us are going to need to hold the gate as long as we can so our ranged fighters can pick off as many as possible.

“Ferdie, Hilda, I need you two to keep them from getting at our back line,” Byleth says. “Felix and I are going to try to plow through to get to their leader. If we get him to surrender, we can avoid all this bloodshed.”

She glances at me and I nod.

“When Sylvain and Lysithea return from barricading the other gates, have them stand with you,” Byleth tells the others.

The front gates erupt in flames as a spell shatters them and Byleth leaps into action. Brandishing the long steel dagger in one hand, she throws out her other and fires a powerful wind spell that sweeps away the fire and knocks the nearest ruffians off their feet.

With a roar, she charges towards them, plunging past the front line and into the throes of the fight. I stay at her side as close as I can without catching her in the range of my sword. She clears a path around us with wind and lightning magic and I dart through the space, felling anyone who tries to come close with swift, clean strokes. 

These aren’t the trained soldiers of the empire and my skill gives me enough of an advantage that I am able to incapacitate many of them instead of killing them.

“Over there!” Byleth shouts and points at a man wielding a huge battle axe and hollering orders at his band of thugs.

“Go! I’ll cover you!” I yell. As she pushes forward with spells, I guard her back, blocking attacks from all sides.

Fighting beside Byleth is different than fighting beside anyone else, but the harmony we forged through months of training has not faded during our years apart and I fall back into the rhythm of it instinctually, my attacks complimenting hers as we cut through the chaos, an unstoppable force of silver and lightning.

A gap opens up between us and the bandit leader and Byleth screams, “ _Thoron!”_

Lightning explodes from her palms but the leader manages to throw himself out of the way at the last second and the spell only hits his arm. He cries out in pain but staggers out of the way and his men rise up in the gap to protect him. He starts to fall back and before we can chase after him, the sound of screams come from the monastery.

I cast a quick look over my shoulder and see that fire and smoke are filling the marketplace and that Claude’s wyvern is plummeting down behind the walls, wounded. Bandits are pouring through the gates into the monastery walls. There are too many of them for the others to hold off.

“Go back!” Byleth shouts. “Help them block off the gate!”

I turn to run back then realize that she isn’t following me. “Byleth!”

“Go!” she yells.

“Come on!”

“I’ve got to catch him. Fall back! That’s an order, Felix!”

I start to yell that I am not going to leave her on her own, but she throws herself into a knot of bandits and vanishes from view, only the flashes of her lightning visible through the chaos of the battlefield and the heavy smoke filling the air.

“Byleth!” I scream.

No! I can’t hesitate in battle. I can’t let myself be torn like this. I was given an order by my superior officer. 

Spitting curses, I leap over the bodies we left behind us and charge back at the gates. I struggle over to Ferdinand who is trying to force back the bandits rampaging through the gates with the help of Claude, who is now on foot. Lysithea and Dorothea are firing spells around us, consuming attackers in seething clouds of dark magic. Hilda and Petra are nowhere to be seen. They must have had to fall back to be healed.

“FEE!” Sylvain shouts, plowing through the chaos towards me. He is on horseback, the Lance of Ruin glowing and dripping blood. “Where’s Byleth?”

I motion back the way I came and he replies but I can’t hear him. A bandit throws himself towards Ferdinand and I cut him down before the edge of his blade can catch him.

Sylvain fights his way over to my side and together we clear a little bit of the fight away from the gates.

“Where’s Byleth?” he asks again.

“She went after the leader! He fled westwards! She ordered me to come back and hold the gate!”

“We have to get her back! Can you make it through to her on your own? Ferdie and I can hold here!”

“I won’t be able to on my own!” I answer.

Sylvain tosses me the Lance of Ruin to hold and rides in front of me, throwing up his hands. He grits his teeth as he focuses his magic, then with a yell he releases a powerful fire blast from his palms, not aimed out at the soldiers but upwards at the frame of the gate. The heavy timbers burst into flames and crack, crushing several bandits beneath them as they fall. 

The wreckage helps block the gate and as Claude, Ferdinand, Lysithea and Dorothea converge on the ones trapped within the marketplace, Sylvain snatches the lance back from me and holds out his other hand.

“Come on!” He pulls me up into the saddle behind him and says, “Hang on!” He kicks his horse forward and it leaps over the fallen beams.

“Focus on finding her!” I cry and fend off anyone approaching us as Sylvain guides his horse westwards.

We see a flash of lightning and Sylvain rides hard towards it. His horse gallops fearlessly through the battle and in minutes I catch sight of Byleth. She is hard on the heels of the bandit leader, but his bodyguards are holding her off - one with magic, the other with a spear that she struggles to break past while narrowly dodging the onslaught of spells.

Sylvain raises the Lance of Ruin and launches it towards the mage. As it flies through the mage’s panicked spell and buries itself deep in his chest, I leap from the saddle and race to Byleth’s side. Blood is splattered across her and the deep stain across her waist, coupled with one of her arms hanging limply at her side, makes me realize that she is badly wounded.

Why did I leave her? Why did I obey her stupid order? Fuck orders! I should have known better.

“Kill them!” the bandit leader yells.

I reach Byleth just in time to keep the lancer from striking her. She falls to her knees, clutching at her bloody waist. I throw myself in front of her, but at this close range, I cannot dodge or fall back to avoid the lance. The man thrusts it at me and I try to knock it back with my sword, but I only deter its path enough that it slices into my shoulder.

Dropping my sword, I grab the shaft of the lance in both hands and wrench it from my shoulder then out of the lancer’s grip. I whirl it around and impale him with it. Casting a glance over my shoulder, I see Sylvain covering our backs.

“Don’t let him get away! He’ll come back with more people!” Byleth cries.

I pick my sword back up and run at the bandit leader. He launches a fireblast at me and I dive out of the way. It slows me down but I press through, forcing myself to keep going despite the pain coursing through my body from my mangled shoulder.

Finally I catch up to him and, evading another blast, I tackle him to the ground. He is twice my size, but he is nowhere near as well-trained and fast. Even with my wounded shoulder, I manage to pin him down with my sword against his throat.

“How many more of you are there?” I growl.

“There’ll be plenty more soon,” he says. “You church pigs aren’t going to last holed up in there.”

“Why? Who’s coming?”

The man laughs. “Everyone.”

“More of your men?”

“No, not mine. You pigs have slaughtered most of my gang,” he says.

“Then who?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer.

An arrow zips by my head and Sylvain shouts, “Fee! We need to go!”

For the split-second I am distracted, the man breaks free and tries to overpower me. He reaches for his weapon, but I grab a knife from the strap on my thigh and stab it into his heart - a quick, precise kill.

I turn back to Sylvain and see that he is holding Byleth in the saddle. “Come on!”

Three people is a lot for a horse to bear but thankfully Byleth is pretty tiny and doesn’t slow down Sylvain’s strong warhorse much. The fighting is starting to dissipate as the bandits realize their leader has fallen. We struggle back to monastery gates and between Sylvain and Byleth’s magic they manage to blast their way through the fallen timbers to get back in.

Mercedes races to our sides as we stagger in and within minutes has us patched up enough to staunch the bleeding. She rushes off to take care of the others who are wounded and tells us to go to the makeshift infirmary Marianne has set up in the reception hall.

Byleth tries to stand up but she has lost a lot of blood and looks pale as death. Sylvain picks her up and carries her across the monastery grounds as I walk stiffly along behind them.

“You alright, buddy?” he asks me, casting a worried look at my stony expression.

“Fine.” I amend the sharpness in my tone as I add, “Thank you for your help.”

“That’s what friends are for,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We all made it out alive. And these little scrapes aren’t too bad. You both will be good as new in a day or two.”

Marianne gives us more in-depth care when we reach the dining hall. I watch silently as she tends to Byleth, sipping a cup of tea and trying to shut out the mess of thoughts and emotions all tangled up distractingly in my head. Now just isn’t the time.

Then Claude comes barreling into the infirmary. “Teach! What happened to you?”

“Sshh!” Sylvain hisses at him. “She just fell asleep.”

“She needs to rest. She will be fine but the healing magic needs time to finish its course,” Marianne explains.

Claude comes over and sits down next to me, despite the look I give him that should have very distinctly communicated my desire for him to sit literally anywhere else.

“You caught the leader, didn’t you? Did he give you any information?” he asks me.

“He said more troops are coming, but not his men. I think he sent word to the empire,” I answer.

Sylvain sits down next to us. “It isn’t safe to stay here anymore,” he says. “But on the other hand, where else would we be any safer? Once we get this place shored up, it will be a hell of a lot more defensible than any other fort or castle.”

“Garreg Mach is our best option. We will double down on repairing it so we are ready,” Claude agrees.

“Is Bear okay?” Sylvain asks him.

Who the hell is Bear?

“She took a spear between the scales but Mercy healed her back up. She will pull through just fine. She’s tough as nails, that girl,” Claude says. 

Oh, the wyvern. His wyvern’s name is Bear. What nonsense.

“Who else was wounded?” I ask.

“Hilda, Petra and Ferdinand will be out of commission for a day or two but they will be alright. No one was injured to the point where Mercy and Marianne’s spells couldn’t patch them up just fine,” he says. “And the professor? How badly was she hurt?”

“ _Byleth_ will be fine. She just needs to rest,” I say, emphasizing her name slightly. All these idiots need to stop calling her ‘professor.’ It’s ridiculous. We are grown-ass adults now. Most of us already were, even back then. I don’t think she ever really wanted us to call her that.

Claude looks as if he is going to ask me more questions but my stiff, hostile manner seems to finally get through to him and he says, “I’ll go start work on repairing our defenses. Let me know when she wakes up.”

As he leaves, Sylvain looks at me and says, “You alright?”

“Stop asking me that.”

“You look shaken up.”

“I’m fine. You should go help Claude.”

“Keep an eye on Byleth and don’t strain your shoulder too much.”

“Stop ordering me around.”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too, buddy.” He gets up and chases after Claude, calling, “Wait up, pretty boy! You might have brains, but you’re gonna need some brawn.”

Is that really his idea of playing coy? 

I roll my eyes and return my attention to staring broodingly down at my tea.

“She’ll be fine in a few hours,” Marianne reassures me but I don’t reply.


	5. The One Left Behind

###  Byleth

As I slowly drift awake, I become more and more aware of the fact my body feels like it has been trampled by horses. A headache is pounding in my skull and a sharp pain is burning in my side. Damn healing magic. It always takes its toll.

I open my eyes and blink to clear away the haze of sleep, taking in the familiar sight of my personal quarters, lit by a lantern because the curtains are drawn tight across the window. In a chair next to the table Felix is sleeping, his head slumped in his crossed arms. The aroma of Almyran pine needles comes from a half-empty pot of tea and I get up and pour myself a cup, wincing at the twinges of pain in my beaten-up body.

My hands are too shaky to hold the teacup steadily and I clatter it against the saucer on accident, startling Felix awake. 

He jumps to his feet. “What are you doing?”

I gesture at the tea pot and he huffs in frustration. “Just ask for a cup, alright? You’re not supposed to move. Marianne will go feral on me if I let you start wandering around the monastery like nothing’s wrong.”

“I’m fine,” I insist. “It wasn’t serious.”

“Tell that to the spearhead Mercy pulled out of your gut.”

I ignore him, reaching for the pot of tea again. But before I can touch it, he grabs my arm and pulls me gently but firmly over to the bed. As I sit down, he points at me with a stern look. “Don’t move.”

I mutter curses under my breath and settle resentfully into the pillows. Felix returns with a cup of tea for each of us and a plate of biscuits and fruit.

“How long have I been out?” I ask.

“Half a day.”

“What’s happened?”

As I eat and drink, some of my strength returns and I listen attentively as Felix outlines what happened during the fight, what he learned from the bandit leader and what measures Claude is taking to reinforce the monastery in preparation for another attack.

“Good. I’ll go speak with him,” I say, setting aside my empty cup.

“He doesn’t need you. You’re not an architect. You are a battle tactician and at the moment we are not in a battle. Rest.”

Even though this is fairly standard Felix behavior, I notice that there is a stiffness to his manner that is different. At least around me, those acerbic words are often followed by a small wry smile. But there is no humor or fondness behind his gruffness right now. It is like he is hidden away behind heavy armor, carefully shielding any real emotion or expression.

I could ask him what is bothering him, but then again when has asking Felix what he is feeling ever worked?

I scoot over to make room for him on the bed and say, “Sit with me for a while then.”

“I’m… not in a talkative mood,” he answers, glancing away from my eyes.

“I said sit not talk.”

He sighs and gives in, settling down next to me and leaning against the headboard. None of the tension relaxes from his body and he stares down at the sheets with a determined frown.

I will just be patient. With this headache growing even worse, I am hardly in a good state to talk either. Closing my eyes, I lean against him and rest my forehead against his neck, enjoying the way the warmth of his skin soothes the pain a bit.

We stay like that for quite some time and I am starting to drift off again when I feel Felix place his palm tentatively on my chest right above my heart.

“It stopped beating,” he whispers.

“It does that. Don’t worry.”

“I thought you said it started beating again yesterday. What happened to make it stop? Was it your injuries?”

“No. This is its usual state. Yesterday was an exception.”

“Why?” he asks.

“I think it was because I was happy.”

“That can’t be it. You’ve been happy before and it hasn’t done that. It’s gotta be the effect of some kind of magic. You should have Mercy check it.”

“No, you don’t understand,” I say, then falter, searching for the right words. “I’ve been sort of happy before, but I’ve never been… it’s never been like that.”

Felix is silent for a long moment, his body growing even more tense.

What did I say wrong? Does he regret what happened last night? 

No, Felix would tell me if he did. Or he wouldn’t be here at all looking after me. If he is anxious like this it is because he thinks I am the one who regrets it.

I silently curse my own nature. Why is it so hard for me to express the emotions I feel? Felix has to fight so hard to keep his under lock and key. Why is it the opposite for me? Why do I struggle so hard to let them free, no matter how intensely I feel them? There is so much more broken inside me than just a quiet heart.

“You ordered me to leave you on the battlefield. There’s a chance you would have made it out alive on your own. But there is also a damn good chance you wouldn’t have. And you made me walk away and leave you to die. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demands. His sharp words make me flinch and he looks over at me swiftly with an expression of regret. “I’m sorry… I-”

“I was trying to keep everyone safe. And I succeeded,” I reply.

“Do you not consider yourself when making your strategies about how to keep everyone alive?”

“I do. But my first responsibility is to everyone else.”

“Not anymore,” he says.

“What?”

“From now on, ‘keeping everyone safe’ includes you. Alright? Stop being so reckless. I’m sick of it. If you throw yourself into the middle of a battlefield and die, I’m not coming back here in five years another time to see if you’re alive. I can’t…” He trails off and his jaw clenches with the effort to restrain emotion. Finally he adds in a low voice, “Don’t cry on my shoulder again about feeling bad for leaving me alone in a war then immediately the next day go chasing after death like none of it mattered.”

The realization of how much my reckless decision hurt him sinks in and I rest my forehead in my hand, wishing the pain beating behind my eyes would go away so I could think clearly and find anything to say that would fix what my carelessness has damaged.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I had no idea it mattered so much to you.”

“No idea?” He gives a short, bitter scoff of a laugh. “Are you serious?” After a moment he adds, “Doesn’t it matter to you whether you live or die? Do you really have nothing worth living for?”

I don’t know how to reply so I act on instinct. Taking his face in my hands, I kiss him deeply and longingly. For a moment, he doesn’t respond. Then his stiffness melts away and he pulls me closer, kissing me back with an intensity that speaks much clearer than his defensive words of how afraid he was of losing me.

Pain and stress are making me dizzy, but I keep kissing him until the barrier between us lowers. And when I pull back and look searchingly into his eyes, I see the same sincerity and vulnerability in them that I did last night.

I find the courage to speak, even though I am still not sure of the right words. “I’ve never had anyone I was attached to enough to be selfish for.”

“It’s frustrating, isn’t it? It’s much easier to focus in battle when you are on your own. And yet there is so much less reason to fight,” he says. “When we were kids, Syl and I made a promise to not die before the other. He’s reckless just like you, always putting his friends first. I hold him to his promise to prevent that.” He pauses for a bit then adds in a quieter tone, “I swore to myself that I’d never be the one left behind again.”

He is talking about Glenn, isn’t he? Suddenly many things about Felix make more sense. Sylvain told me once that he changed drastically after his brother died, that he used to be carefree and open-hearted. Now I understand a little better what caused that transformation. Then again, it should have been obvious. Nothing shakes a person to their core and changes them so deeply as love and fear. I learned that when Jeralt died.

“I will never leave you behind again. I swear to you,” I reply.

He nods, staring away from me at the wall, his eyes distant and his manner withdrawn again.

“You have been the closest thing to a friend I’ve ever had,” I continue. “But you were one student out of many that I was given the duty to protect.”

“I’m not your student anymore. None of us are.”

“I know. It’s taking some getting used to. For me it all happened very abruptly. But you are right: my responsibilities have changed. It is still my job to be a leader and to help Claude win this war, but to some extent I am also free to do what I want.”

“What is it you want to do?”

“I want…” It feels so strange to put it into words but I can’t deny this feeling I have held for longer than I can remember. “I want someone to belong to, someone to belong to me.”

“Do you mean that?” he asks, trying to look aloof but not quite succeeding.

“Yes.”

Felix stops trying to seem unconcerned and looks over at me fiercely. Putting his hand behind my head, he tangles his fingers in my hair and clutches it tightly. “Belong to me then. I’ll have your back and you’ll have mine. But you have to promise you won’t be reckless. You have to take your life seriously. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I promise.”

“Good.”

He kisses me again and pulls me into his lap, careful not to hold me too tightly or touch the bandages on my waist. The feeling of his arms around me is so comforting but it only makes the pain worse and I have to climb out of his lap and lie back down.

“I’m sorry. I feel like I’m going to pass out,” I apologize.

“Shit. I was supposed to let you rest,” he says. “I’d better go.”

“Please have someone come report to me on the preparations for attack,” I ask.

He nods, buckling on his sword belt and his cloak. “I’ll send Marianne to check on you again.”

“There’s no need. I just need rest. I’m fine.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” he says. He pauses at the door to look back at me and I see a hint of a smile on his lips. “Don’t you dare leave this room.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll tell Hilda that you are in low spirits and need her to come chatter at you to cheer you up.”

“Oh saints, don’t do that,” I reply.

He raises his eyebrows, his smile growing more noticeable. “Then don’t test me.”

“Fuck you, Felix.”

“Not until you’re better,” he says and leaves.

I smile and close my eyes, still feeling a vague warmth on my lips from his.

_ ‘Then belong to me.’ _

I have no idea what will happen next – in the war, in Fódlan, in our small rebellion. And I have no idea what will happen here between Felix and I. But for once the uncertainty feels a little less overwhelming. Whatever comes, I won’t be struggling to figure it out and face it alone.

Knowing that it is safe to fall asleep now that there are people looking out for me, I allow myself to drift off and rest. Right as I am on the edge of sleep, I notice a faint flutter of motion in my chest and smile.

Another heartbeat.

“She doesn’t look a lot better. Maybe that wound was worse than they think.”

“She’s strong as a warhorse. Don’t worry too much about her.”

“I know she is. But I’m gonna need Teach’s help in this mess. We all will.”

“Fee keeps snapping at me to stop calling her ‘Professor.’ We probably should. It just makes whatever is going on between them weirder.”

I slowly become aware of Claude and Sylvain’s hushed voices as they sit at the table in my room, no doubt here to keep an eye on me. I’m too sore and sleepy to fully wake up just yet so I lie still and listen as I struggle to stir clarity into my exhausted mind.

“What is going on between them exactly? If anyone knows, it would be you,” Claude says.

“I don’t actually. I mean, Fee’s been in love with her for ages, but I didn’t think she felt that way about him, or anyone really. She’s always seemed so aloof and out of reach. Any of us pursuing her would have been crazy,” Sylvain replies.

“I thought the whole reason you joined my house was to pursue her.”

“At first. But I knew I had no shot with her within a matter of minutes.”

“Then why didn’t you go back to the Blue Lions? No one would have stopped you.”

“She wasn’t the only one worth chasing. The Golden Deer is full of pretty does and one very fine stag.”

Claude laughs. “A stag, huh?”

Alright. I better wake up and put an end to this. Wherever this is headed, I have no desire to be privy to it.

I force myself to sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes. 

“Teach!” Claude exclaims, then immediately amends it by saying, “Byleth. How are you doing?”

“I haven’t been awake long enough to ascertain that,” I answer with a yawn.

He and Sylvain come over and sit down on the edge of the bed, staring at me worriedly.

I smile up at them and say, “Don’t you have better things to do than sit around in my room flirting with each other?”

“Flirting?” Sylvain says with an offended expression. “I would never.”

He winks slyly at Claude who ignores him, although the corner of his lips crooks up into a small smile.

“How are the preparations going? Do we have the manpower to rebuild and reinforce the gates?” I ask.

“Already settled,” Claude says. “I’ve hired some local carpenters and masons to lend us a hand.”

“There is very little that piles of Riegan and Gautier gold can’t accomplish,” Sylvain adds.

“How can I help?” I ask.

“How handy are you with a hammer?” Claude asks.

“Handy enough.”

He laughs. “That was a joke. You’re staying off your feet until tomorrow. Then it’s just some light training for a few days. Leave the construction work to people who didn’t take a lance to the stomach.”

“How are the others?” I ask.

“Well, for the most part. They are recovering from their wounds as well, but no one was seriously injured enough that they won’t be back in commission in a few days. We have the two best healers in Fódlan here to take excellent care of everyone. Don’t worry about us.”

“Tell Marianne and Mercedes thank you from me,” I say.

“Tell them yourself. Supper is ready in the dining hall.”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to be on my feet.”

“Why do you think I brought Sylvain along? It certainly wasn’t for his pleasant company,” Claude replies with a smile. 

He nods at Sylvain who scoops me up in his arms and carries me towards the door, still wrapped in a blanket.

“Stop carrying me around!” I yelp. “Put me down! I can walk just fine.”

“Sorry, Prof-” He catches himself. “Sorry, Byleth. I don’t dare disobey the general’s orders.”

“You two are impossible,” I mutter and give up, allowing Sylvain to carry me to the dining hall. Claude walks alongside us, joking around so disarmingly that I grow less self-conscious and indignant and end up laughing along with him and Sylvain.

I am greeted by an eager chorus of people exclaiming “Professor!” when we arrive and I look around the room worriedly, taking stock of how many people are wounded. But even though a few of them are bandaged up, their spirits still seem high with the relief of victory.

Sylvain sets me on a bench by one of the tables and sits down next to me. “Mercy went to go get Fee. He should be here soon.”

Claude returns to us carrying plates of food and a bottle of wine. He sits down across from us and pours the wine into glasses. “To another day alive,” he says, raising his.

Sylvain and I raise our glasses and I drain mine in one long gulp, feeling its bittersweet warmth ease some of the pain in my body.

Hilda wanders over and asks me, “Are these two hooligans bothering you?” She shoots an icy look at Sylvain but smiles sweetly at Claude.

“I’m fine. I’m glad to see you weren’t injured too bad in the fight.”

She laughs. “I wouldn’t say I wasn’t injured. My favorite skirt got ripped and ruined with bloodstains. My heart has been wounded far worse than my body.”

She moves as if to sit down next to Claude but Sylvain says, “You have good timing, Hilda. We were just discussing how to divvy up duties. Why don’t you sit and tell us what you would like to volunteer to do?”

Her eyes widen slightly in panic and she looks over at the kitchen. “Sorry, I think something’s burning. I better go check on it.”

As she practically runs away, Sylvain smiles to himself and takes a long drink of his wine. 

Claude strikes up conversation and I do my best to reply but I am still light-headed and sleepy and I fear I am not good company. Thank the goddess that Sylvain is here. Between the two of them, there really isn’t much that I need to say. They are pretty content to carry the conversation on their own. All they seek from me is someone to laugh at their jokes every so often or validate one of their opinions as they argue playfully.

At long last, Felix walks in. He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt despite the chill in the air and I can tell from the shine of sweat on his skin that he has been training. The bandage on his shoulder is stained slightly with fresh blood and I hear Mercedes chide him for pushing himself too hard when he should be resting.

He glances around the room and I see him catch sight of me but he immediately looks away. Dishing himself up a plate of food, he wanders around until he drifts over to our table and nonchalantly sits down next to me without saying a word.

Claude and Sylvain try to engage him in conversation to no avail. He eats in silence, his body stiff with pain and his expression carefully guarded to hide it.

But when he notices me watching him out of the corner of my eye, he reaches under the table and picks up my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. He makes eye contact briefly with me and in that second a faint smile passes across his face.


	6. No Rest for the Wicked

###  Felix

“Aha!” Petra cries as she finally cuts through my defenses and pauses with her blade against my neck.

“Well done,” I acknowledge.

The truth is that I am a bit slow from my wounded shoulder but there is no need to diminish her good swordsmanship by commenting on that. She certainly has improved. I bet she could give most people a run for their money now.

“You are a much nicer sparring partner to have than you used to be, Felix,” she says. “You used to be very unpleasant and rude.”

“And you are still just as brutally honest.”

She smiles brightly. “Of course. I am told it is my charm.”

I wipe the sweat from my brow and sheathe my sword. “I think that’s it for now.” My shoulder is aching like a bitch and my stomach is growling.

“Yes. Let us be having some breakfast. Come; I will make us some food. My heart is full of victory and I wish to celebrate it with good cooking. I will cook you something from Brigid. You will like it.”

“Thanks. I’ll scrounge up some tea.”

“Tell Claude and Sylvain they can come eat my cooking too if they would be liking that,” she says as she walks away.

I glance over to the other side of the training grounds where Sylvain is giving Claude ‘lessons’ on how to fight with a lance. At the moment he is showing Claude how to properly wield the weapon when in close combat and that apparently necessitates standing behind him with his arms around Claude’s waist and his hands over Claude’s on the lance’s hilt.

I roll my eyes and leave the room without bothering to invite them to breakfast. Let Sylvain starve, that bastard. I still cannot believe he would rat me out to Claude of all people. 

Byleth’s quarters are on my way and I decide to stop and invite her instead. I knock on her door and she opens it after a moment, looking much more alive than she did yesterday.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Morning. Breakfast?”

“Sure.” She grabs her coat and follows me towards the dining hall. “How come you are allowed to go back to training and I’m not?”

“People care less about my health than they do yours,” I answer and she laughs.

“You all need to stop worrying about me,” she says. “You know, I found a bouquet of weeds and pine needles on my table this morning like I was in a hospital. Ridiculous.”

“Weeds?”

“Well there aren’t any flowers growing this time of year. But they were pretty weeds so it still looked like a bouquet. Do you know who left them?”

“No idea. What a stupid thing to do,” I answer.

When I dare to glance over at her I see a slight, mocking smile on her lips.

Damn it! She knows.

“Sounds like something Mercy would do,” I add.

“Hm.”

When we reach the dining hall, we find Petra hard at work cooking and she has roped a skeptical but nonetheless supportive Ferdinand into helping her.

“Good morning!” he beams as we walk into the kitchen.

“Morning, Ferdie,” Byleth says with a tired smile. “Petra, can I help?”

“You need to be, uh-” Petra struggles to find the phrase for a second then says, “taking it easy.”

“You two were wounded the same as me,” she replies stubbornly.

“I think we will fare just fine without help,” Ferdinand says. “Besides, you-” He catches himself and pauses.

“You are a terrible cook,” Petra finishes for him. “He is too nice to say it, but I am knowing that you prefer honesty.”

Byleth laughs. “I do. I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Felix, how was your training?” Ferdinand asks me. I get the impression he is hoping I will stay in the kitchen and make small talk with him, but oh boy that certainly is not going to happen. Ever.

I turn on my heel and walk out of the kitchen, sitting down at a table. Byleth sits next to me and says, “Why is he so determined to be your friend?”

“I’m the closest thing Mercy has to a brother. He probably thinks he needs my approval.”

“And he’s not going to get it?” she asks.

“Not until I see him drive his spear into Edelgard’s heart and I know for sure whose side he’s on.”

“I think he’s here to help. I trust him.”

“Claude doesn’t seem to.”

“Claude doesn’t trust anyone. He’s too careful,” she says.

I could follow up her statement with a question, but to be honest, I don’t care much about what kind of person Claude is. He is a decent leader and I like the fact that he isn’t afraid to take on Edelgard like all of Faerghus is. That’s good enough for me. I’m not here fighting for him. I’m just here because his side of the war is the only sane one to be on.

Not sure what to say, I stay silent, staring idly out the doorway at the sunlight glittering on the pond below. To my relief, Byleth doesn’t say anything either. Usually when I fail to make conversation, whoever I am with either fills the silence with chatter or looks awkwardly for an escape from my presence. But Byleth seems perfectly content. 

After a few minutes, I relax a little and stop worrying about boring her. Being able to just enjoy her presence without pressure to be something I am not is a wonderful feeling.

When she rests her head on my shoulder, I put my arm around her and scoot a bit closer. I dread whatever comments Ferdinand or Petra will make when they find us like this, but that anxiety is not worth pushing her away for.

Let people say what they want. Fuck them. It’s nice to feel some affection like this. I haven’t felt this comfortable around anyone before. Why should I give that up to keep up appearances? I can kick everyone’s ass if they say I’ve gone soft.

Byleth presses a kiss on my neck and says out of the blue, “Will you call me ‘By?’ Byleth feels so formal. No one’s really called me it much before anyways. Jeralt just called me ‘kid’ and all of you brats refused to refer to me as anything other than ‘professor.’”

“Sure. But don’t call me Fee. I hate it.”

“Okay.”

She falls quiet again and we resume our calm silence until Ferdinand and Petra clatter in with trays of plates and cups of tea, bringing with them a chaotic, cheery mood that shatters the peaceful atmosphere.

As we sit down to eat, Mercy wanders in, followed soon after by a few of the others. They talk and laugh and eat merrily, ignoring us for the most part. They know better than to try to drag me into conversation and although they address Byleth from time to time, they don’t seem to expect much response from her.

Petra’s cooking is delicious and I help myself to a second plate. But when I’m done, I whisper to Byleth that I’m going back to the training grounds for a while and slip away. She tries to follow me but Mercedes and Ferdinand grab her arm and pull her back to her seat, lecturing her about resting.

She gives me a helpless look pleading for me to bail her out but I just smirk at her and walk away, leaving her at their mercy. She will probably get me back for it later, but I can’t resist.

As I push open the doors of the training hall and walk in, I am immediately assaulted with the scarring sight of Claude and Sylvain making out furiously. Sylvain’s got his shirt off and seems to be attempting to get Claude out of his, until they notice me and freeze.

I give Sylvain a withering scowl and sayl, “Go fuck in a bedroom like civilized people. I want to train some more.”

Sylvain swears and gives me a look that begs me to go train somewhere else and leave them alone. But I hold my ground and raise my eyebrows, silently telling him to not ruin the sanctity of the training grounds with his stupid affairs.

He sighs and turns back to Claude with his best charming grin. “Your quarters or mine?”

“His!” I growl. “You’re sharing a room with me, remember?”

Claude laughs and extricates himself from Sylvain’s arms. “Bold of you to assume you’re getting lucky today. I have work to do.”

He saunters away, leaving Sylvain looking devastated.

“Thanks, buddy,” he tells me. “I was finally getting somewhere.”

“Hmph.”

“I’m going to go tell Byleth some unsavory stories about you as revenge,” he says. “Enjoy your training.”

“Don’t tell her the herring fish one.”

“What herring fish one?” he asks innocently.

“Syl-”

He flashes me a wicked grin and bolts for the door. I swear and chase after him, tackling him with a flying leap when I catch up to him in the courtyard. I manage to wrestle him down until I am top of him with a knife to his throat.

“Don’t you dare,” I growl.

“How about the infamous incident of the-”

“No! No stories.”

“Come on. You’re no fun,” he complains.

I sheathe the knife and say, “You get one story. If I hear you’ve been running your mouth and embarrassing me anymore, you’ll regret it. Understand?”

Sylvain shakes his head. “So serious. It’s charming to know people have a silly side, you know. If I told Byleth all the shenanigans of your younger days, she would probably like you more.”

“Tell her about the time we were vigilantes.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. That one doesn’t paint you in too unflattering of a light, I suppose. Now get off of me.”

I let him go and give him one last warning look and threat.

“Just remember that I have leverage against you, Fee. Don’t go scaring Claude off,” he says.

I am surprised to see that he is so invested in this whim of his. When I think of it, I have never seen Sylvain pursue someone who he couldn’t easily charm. I guess it is not worth his time when he could just pick the low-hanging fruit.

I consider asking him why he is behaving so strangely but I figure if I wait long enough he will tell me, so I might as well get back to my training. When he needs a listening ear, he will come to me as he always does. There is no point in provoking him to. 

“I’ll do my best,” I grumble and walk away.

Despite the ache in my shoulder, punctuated by stabs of pain every so often, I train for several more hours. The habitual movements and the comforting weight and balance of the sword in my hands help drive away the mess of thoughts in my head so I can feel at peace for a short time.

But as I return to my quarters and take off my armor and weapons, all the questions and anxieties come rushing back in.

Who knows what lies ahead for us in this war? We have survived one fight but we have far larger and bloodier ones yet to come. Every happy moment with By only causes the prospect of those future battles to become more unsettling.

Now I have three people to lose, as if two weren't enough already.

A knock on the door startles me from my brooding and I crack it open with a tired scowl to see Mercedes standing outside.

“I know you’ve gone and tore your shoulder open again. Let me heal it back up,” she says.

I let her in and shrug off my shirt so she can examine the bloodied bandages. After all these years, Mercy knows better than to give me long lectures about not exerting myself too much. She just chides me a bit and then talks sweetly of other things. Thankfully she doesn’t bring up Ferdinand too much, nor does she ask me any questions about By. Instead tells me the story of what she has been doing since we last saw each other.

I am sure Sylvain has already filled her in on our story, so I remain quiet and just listen, her voice soothing away my tension.

“There you go,” she says, wrapping a new bandage over the freshly healed wound. “Don’t split it open again.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I answer.

“This isn’t a joke, Felix. No more straining your arm today, alright? Rest.”

“I will,” I reassure her. “I promise.”

* * *

  
  


Byleth clutches fistfuls of the sheets and her racing breaths turn into whimpers of pleasure. I twist my fingers to a slightly different angle and thrust harder, drawing a gasp from her. 

But a gasp isn’t good enough. She is nowhere near where I want her yet. 

She plants her palms on the bed and sits up, arching her back, her mouth open as she pants for breath. As I quicken my rhythm, I lean down and kiss her breasts, flicking my tongue across her nipples, then sucking on the sensitive skin.

Finally, a cry escapes her lips. The sound electrifies me. There is nothing more satisfying than breaking through her composure. 

How am I supposed to take it easy and rest when I could be doing this to her? The more I fuck her, the more I learn exactly what to do to strip away the layers of her reserve until she is completely undone, a moaning, swearing mess too wrapped up in the moment to be self-conscious or quiet.

I don’t care if I am supposed to avoid straining my arm and shoulder. I didn’t give up training because of a trifling wound. I am not giving up this either. Nothing makes all the worries and thoughts slip away and gives me the peace to be in the moment like being in bed with her. I could do this for hours. Thank the goddess she seems to want to as well, despite her strict orders to rest too.

I figure that as long as I have her on her back and she isn’t straining her stomach that is still wrapped in bandages she should be alright. It’s not like I could have convinced her to settle down anyways. As soon as I met her in her quarters tonight she all but dragged me into the bed.

Even after I thought we were both initially satisfied, an hour later here we are again.

Her hips are beginning to move with me, begging me to go harder and I focus more intently on matching the rhythm she wants. Carefully, I slip in a third finger, wondering if it is too much for her.

“Oh goddess… fuck!"

I smile at her overcome expression. She can take it.

She gasps and grabs my hair, tugging my head down. “Please…”

I give in to her begging voice, burying my face between her legs and exploring her wet, flushed skin with my tongue until I find her clitoris. She groans and clutches tighter at my hair.

I love this new desperate, insistent side of her. I swear she has never wanted me this badly before and I have never wanted to please her more. Heart pounding with excitement, I kiss her wildly, playing with her clit with my tongue, relishing every incredible cry and moan I am rewarded with. 

Her legs stiffen a bit, her thighs pressing against my head and I know she is right on the edge. I slip my fingers back into her, curling them to hit the right spot as I continue to go down on her. It takes concentration to be able to do both at the same time, but I focus intently on keeping the perfect angle with my fingers while licking and sucking on her clit.

She swears and I feel her body contract with the start of an orgasm. I fuck her harder, drawing out the sensation as long as possible.

As she comes, I feel myself getting hard and I can’t wait for my own turn.

Letting go of my hair, she slumps back against the pillows and exhales a long breath, her legs trembling as a shiver runs through her body. I slip my fingers out and catch my breath, happily watching her overwhelmed expression.

She groans and hides her face in her hands, her cheeks red with embarrassment. “Oh goddess, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“I’m not normally so… demanding.”

“You do whatever you want,” I answer. “I don’t care.”

I kiss her thighs, taking satisfaction in how hot and slick they are. I think this was fairly good foreplay.

I let her rest for a moment, but I can’t ignore the desire in my own body and I keep kissing and nuzzling until she seems to come back to reality.

“Come here,” she says, pulling me up to lay side by side with her.

She kisses me tenderly for a moment then her energy rises up again and she puts her hand around my throat, kissing me harder. She catches my bottom lip in her teeth and bites it. The stab of pain catches me off guard but I don't mind. I love a bit of pain and she knows it.

Her fingers close around my throat tighter and my heart begins to pound. I could grab her wrist and wrestle her hand away, but I am too curious to stop her. How far will she go?

She squeezes harder and when I open my mouth to gasp helplessly for breath, she runs her tongue across my bottom lip then bites down again, rough enough to draw a tiny bit of blood. I cry out a bit and she releases my throat, kissing me wildly.

“Do you want me to be demanding?” she asks.

I am a little too breathless and stunned to reply but she can tell the answer is yes.

She pushes me off of her and says, “Then come here.”

Getting out of bed, she reaches out her hand and I take it. She pulls me to my feet and leads me over to the other side of the room, where she backs me up against a wall with a smile. She kneels down and kisses my stomach and hips, moving downwards as I hold my breath in anticipation.

Even without stimulation of any kind, I’ve been on the verge of an erection this whole time, my body aching for her touch even though my focus was on pleasing her. As she wraps her fingers around the shaft of my dick and swirls her tongue around the head, I groan, wanting desperately for her to take the whole thing in her mouth.

She teases me, watching the effect it has on me. I try to keep my impatience to myself and hold onto my dignity but she is obviously trying to make me beg for it.

I’m not going to beg. I never beg.

She puts her lips around my cock and leans in, stroking her tongue across it as she sucks. I swear and put my hand behind her head, pushing her slowly to take the whole thing. But she grabs my wrists and pins them back against the wall.

After a little more teasing, she begins to fuck me harder and my head swims with pleasure. Sliding her lips to the base of my dick, she takes me deeper into her throat, then she pulls back a bit so she can move more freely.

I look down at her and am captivated by the way her eyes are bright with the satisfaction of pleasing me, and the sight of her lips wrapped around my cock, sucking passionately and loudly as saliva drips from the corners of her mouth.

Abruptly, she stops and holds my dick in her hand instead of her mouth. I muffle a whimper, my body aching so hard it hurts with the need to be inside her.

After flicking the head playfully with her tongue, she lets go and stands up. 

“Fucking hell, By, are you trying to kill me?” I growl.

She brushes the hair out of my eyes and examines my impatient expression with a slight smile. “I thought you said I could do what I wanted.”

“What is it you want?”

Turning away, she walks back over to the bed and stretches a bit. Then she climbs onto it and kneels down, facing away from me.

“Come here,” she says.

It takes a lot of self-control to walk over with some level of composure and not just run. 

She looks over her shoulder at me and says, “I have one last demand.”

“Oh?”

“Make me come again.”

I kneel down behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, kissing her neck and giving my body a bit to cool down so I don’t finish as soon as I’m inside her. She picks up one of my hands and licks my fingers, then takes them and moves them down to move in circles around her clit.

I finger her for a minute as I nuzzle her neck, then I put my hand on her back and push her down gently onto her hands and knees. The way she is spread out in front of me gets my heart pounding again and when I slip inside her, I can't choke back the gasped sort of cry that the feeling provokes.

“Don't hold back,” she whispers.

Grabbing her hips, I adjust the angle of her body against mine and thrust deeper. She pushes back against me, urging me to go harder still, and I stop worrying about hurting her. I move faster and rougher until I have to fight with everything in me to not let myself tip over the edge and finish until she has come.

I focus my attention on reading the signals of her body and finding the exact rhythm and angle that she wants. When I do, she moans louder and the muscles on her shoulders ripple as she grips fistfuls of the sheets tighter.

She’s getting close.

“Fuck! Felix…”

My body is burning with the effort to hold back, but I keep control and go as hard as I can. Her skin slaps against mine and every thrust is accompanied by the desperate noises she makes and the sound of my own groans.

“Felix,” she whines as she hits her limit, her body tightening and clenching around me.

I hold on a minute longer until she is finished then I can’t take it any longer. Leaning my head back, I gasp and let the rush of the orgasm release, feeling relief sweep away the frantic pressure in my body.

As we both come down from the peak, I slip out of her and collapse against the pillows, panting for breath. She lies down next to me and stares up at the ceiling with a stunned look.

She winces slightly and says, “I’m going to feel that one later.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“Yes, but you could have been rougher if you had wanted.” She rubs the strip of bandages across her stomach and says, “Some things are worth a little pain.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say with a faint laugh.

She glances over and smiles as her eyes meet mine. She doesn’t have to say anything. I know what that look means. And I don’t know how to put that happiness into words either. It isn’t just the hazy hot satisfaction of sex. It’s more than that.

Maybe someday I’ll find the right word. For now, it doesn’t matter. 

For now, I feel happier than I have in a long time. And judging by the steady beating of her heart and the flush of warmth in her skin, I think she does too.


	7. Why We Fight

###  Byleth

“Our scouts came back this morning with reports that a troop of Imperial soldiers have been seen twenty miles from here,” Claude says, pointing to a spot on the map in the council room. “They’ll be here by evening.”

“And we’ll be ready for them,” I reply.

As we go over our plans and the details of our fortifications, I study the faces of my old students.

I wanted to train them slowly and carefully to have this kind of steady-minded determination in the face of battle. Instead it was forged in them through the brutality of war. As much as it pains me to see the loss of innocence, I have never felt so proud of them. 

They have grown up well, and I cannot take credit for a single bit of it. They owe it each to the strength of their own natures and, perhaps more importantly, the strength of their bonds with each other. 

Once our plans have been settled, there is nothing left to do but wait and steel our nerves. As our council disbands, I watch as each of them gravitate towards the people they love – Ferdinand taking Mercedes’s hand with a calm reassuring smile; Petra and Dorothea talking quietly with each other by the window; Sylvain and Felix stalking out of the room arguing about something; Lorenz and Marianne wandering off to the kitchen together… 

Only Claude is standing alone, still studying the charts and maps on the table although he looks distracted like he isn’t even seeing them.

I walk over to him, worried by the troubled expression on his face but unsure of how to ask him about it. Lingering by the table next to him, I pretend to go over some papers until he looks over at me and says, “Something on your mind, friend?”

I smile, pleased he has finally given up calling me ‘Teach’ or ‘Professor.’

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting used to it,” he says, reading my mind. “How are you adapting to this new world now that you have lived in it for a few weeks?”

“What’s on your mind?” I ask. “You usually look confident about your plans. Why do you look so worried?”

He looks a bit taken aback by me answering his question with an unrelated one of my own. I suppose that’s not how conversations are supposed to go.

“You always cut right to the chase, huh?” he says. 

I wait for him to answer, staring at him expectantly.

He sighs. “Schemes are my area of expertise. This… this kind of endeavor takes much more than schemes. No matter how many plans I make, there are always more variables. I know that if I miss even the smallest thing it could cost somebody’s life. So even my backup plans need backup plans, and the backup backup plans still need a backup plan. I guess I just can’t stop thinking is all.”

“I trust your plans,” I reply. “Trust them too.”

There is a rare, emotional look in Claude’s eyes as he says, “Thank you.”

Meeting everyone now as adults has meant getting to know them all over again. They are so different, so much stronger, wiser and more open-hearted than they were in their younger days. Only Claude feels the same to me now as he always did. But maybe that is because he always felt like an adult to me, someone I looked up to as much as he did me.

I reach out and put my hand on his shoulder with an encouraging smile. I don’t have his charismatic way of making speeches to rally people’s spirits. But I think Claude knows what I want to say already.

I believe in him. I have since the beginning.

“No one is dying today,” I promise.

He nods. “Let’s go get armored up. I’ll meet you at the gates in an hour.”

I return to my quarters and walk in to find Felix and Sylvain sitting at the table in my room. 

“We brought some early dinner. Can’t fight on an empty stomach,” Sylvain says, holding out a plate piled high with food.

I sit down next to Felix and take the plate gratefully. “Thank you.”

Felix and I are both too focused grimly on the coming battle to talk and Sylvain eats in silence with us for a moment until it seems to make him on edge.

“Birds of a feather…” he mutters then asks, “Am I doomed to be the sole conversationalist in this family?”

“Family?” I echo.

“You do realize that Felix and I are a packaged deal, right? You saddle yourself with him, you’re stuck with me too.”

Felix swears under his breath but I laugh.

“I was aware of the risks,” I reply. “Don’t worry.”

“You should be grateful, though, because I am the only reliable source of information about his past. And boy do I have stories for you. You know one time when he was fourteen-” Sylvain begins but yelps as Felix kicks him under the table.

“Alright, alright,” Sylvain says, giving him a hurt look. Then he turns back to me with a grin and says, “New topic then. What is Felix like in bed?”

This time Sylvain jumps to his feet and dodges Felix’s kick. 

“Good,” I answer simply, taking a bite of my dinner and watching in secret amusement as Felix flushes with anger and embarrassment.

“Ha! I knew it,” Sylvain says. “I knew underneath that scowly, miserable exterior there was a sweet, tender heart.”

Felix raises a fist and starts to get to his feet, but I grab his arm and pull him back down.

“I didn’t say anything about sweet and tender,” I reply.

Finally Sylvain looks a little uncomfortable. “You know what? I’ve decided I don’t want to learn anything else. As they say, curiosity-”

“Killed the cat,” Felix growls.

I half-expect him to tell Sylvain to get lost, but all he does is glare and shoves more food towards Sylvain’s side of the table, saying, “Shut up and eat.”

Sylvain turns the topic to more mature matters, talking with me about spells and battle tactics, goading Felix into joining in until even he looks at ease and a small, comfortable smile rests on his lips.

Sylvain was always good at getting people’s nerves to calm and spirits to rise right before a battle. These past few years have taken that talent and honed it into a skill. It is with clear minds and steady hands that we pick up our weapons and go to meet up with the others after a couple hours.

  
  


* * *

###  Felix

“It’s late to protest our plans,” By says. “You need to go! Now!”

I was ready to accept this strategy earlier, for I know in my mind how practical it is. Yet now that it is time to part ways with her, I can’t bring myself to silence the irrational impulse that makes me want to stay by her side.

“You need to get to the fire traps to activate them,” she continues. “I’m trusting you with that. Trust me to take out Randolph before he can breach the walls.”

It galls me to give in, to split up with her. But I’m not part of the cavalry and she will need the advantage of speed and force to get past the front line to the imperial commander. My job will require stealth and care.

Petra smiles at Ferdinand and By and says, “Happy hunting to you, friends.”

Ferdinand holds out his hand and pulls Byleth up into the saddle in front of him. 

I glance over at Sylvain and he nods reassuringly at me. “See you later,” he says with a grin.

With a growl of frustration, I walk away to the eastern gates, Petra and a small cohort of soldiers following me.

“We will be enjoying our victory soon,” she says and the fierce expression on her face causes my own determination to rise up.

“We will,” I reply. 

All those long years ago, it would have been By at my side plowing through the battlefield with our blades. But in a fight like this, her magic is more useful than her sword. If I don’t have her guarding my back, I am glad at least that it is Petra. Her skill with a sword is comparable to mine and her unshakeable faith and steadiness in the midst of danger is admirable.

_ Just keep By safe, Sylvain. And yourself. _

Maybe I should have said those words aloud to them, but it’s too late now. There is no point in saying such things anyways; they both know.

The clatter of hoofbeats catches my attention and I turn to see Ferdinand galloping over to me. He reins in his horse to an abrupt halt and By leaps from the saddle. She runs over and throws her arms around my neck, clutching me tightly for a moment as she says, “I’ll keep my promise.”

I tip her chin up clumsily with my armored gloves and kiss her deeply, unheeding of anyone around us.

When I let go of her, I give her a small smile and a nod, too emotional to speak. As By swings back up into the saddle and rides away with Ferdinand, Petra gives me an examining look and says, “War is the worst but most important time to be loving someone.”

She says the words with a glance back at the others, where Dorothea is climbing up into the saddle with Sylvain to join in Byleth’s attack on the commander.

Love.

I don’t love By, I just… She just…

“Fuck this,” I mutter and unlock the gates.

Outside is the stamp of hundreds of armored boots and the rising clamor of the army. If we move past them, we can make it to the fire traps in time and block their reinforcements from joining them.

Petra draws her twin swords and her body tenses in preparation to pounce like a wild cat.

Strapping my Aegis Shield onto one arm, I draw my sword and steel my resolve. “Let’s go.”

  
  


* * *

###  Byleth

War cries mix with the grunts and screams of battle as we charge through the hole in the front line that Dorothea and I blast open with our magic. Skirting around us atop his wyvern, Claude picks off the approaching enemy fliers to clear space.

“Hold on!” Ferdinand shouts and spurs his stallion forward. I grip the saddle with my legs and grab onto the horn with one hand as the horse leaps over a fence and lands with a jolt on the cobblestones on the other side.

I throw up my free hand to launch spells at the nearest soldiers and when one breaks through, Ferdinand swiftly takes them down with his scythe.

Sylvain and Dorothea clear the fence a moment later, staying close beside us. Together, the four of us cut down the soldiers around us, plunging through them like a current rushing through a riverbed.

In the split-seconds between attacks, I try to keep track of the movement of the battle and the locations of our troops. But I can’t see Felix and Petra and all I can do is trust they are on track with the plan and keeping each other safe.

“Watch out!” Ferdie cries and I duck in time for him to swing his scythe over my head and cut a bloody swath through the mage that teleports in beside us.

“Good catch! Keep it up!” I shout encouragingly at him over the clamor.

We are making good progress. With our small forces, we either win this swiftly or not at all. As of yet, we don’t have the numbers for a fair fight. We have to strike quickly and decisively at the heart of the army.

A flash of imperial red banners appears ahead and I point at it. “Over there!”

I hear a cry to our right and glance over to see an arrow from a passing flier strike Sylvain’s arm, piercing right between the armor plates to bite into his skin. He swears in pain but keeps riding.

“Cover us!” Dorothea yells.

Riding over in front of them, we hold a circle around them so that Dorothea can quickly wrench the arrow from Sylvain’s arm and fuse up the wound temporarily with a healing spell.

A screech splits the air above us and a wyvern rider crashes to the ground a few yards away with Failnaught’s arrows embedded in it. But more fliers descend on us and it grows difficult to blast them back with spells while keeping the foot soldiers away.

“No!” Ferdie cries as an arrow hits his horse dead in its chest. It careens to the ground, throwing both of us from the saddle and Ferdie races over to it with a scream, killing the two soldiers jumping towards him.

I struggle over to his side and say, “Ferdie! Ferdinand! Come on!”

“Professor!” Dorothea shouts. “He’s getting away!”

I follow her pointing finger and see the red banners retreating.

Coward!

Randolph will let his soldiers throw themselves against our gates, but he won’t step through the bloodshed himself to fight. He is running to the back lines to stay safe while his men die.

Tears stream down Ferdinand’s face as he drops to his knees beside his horse, desperately trying to heal the wound. But he is shit at magic and his feeble healing spell can’t do anything to keep the animal from bleeding out.

“We don’t have time!” I say, grabbing his arm and pulling him up. 

“Go on with Sylvain! I can save him. Just let me-”

“Ferdinand von Aegir!” I yell. “Obey your commanding officer!”

My ruthless words snap him out of his grief and he raises his weapon, charging with me into the chaos towards the red banners. Sylvain and Dorothea plow through the line in front of us and we chase after them as fast as we can.

When we reach Randolph’s bodyguards, our progress slows. They are better trained than any other fighters in the army and it is all we can do to hold our own against them. 

Sylvain’s right arm is still weak from his wound, but he wields the Lance of Ruin in his left, the strength of his attacks not dwindling.

Throwing both hands into the air, Dorothea unleashes the full force of her magic and sends a blast of burning rock hurtling down from the sky at Randolph, attacking him behind the front line of his guard. The effort nearly makes her collapse but the moment of confusion it causes in the soldiers is all we need to go on the offensive.

Ferdinand and I hack our way through the nearest guards and as we leap past them towards Randolph, Sylvain keeps them from chasing us.

Fighting side by side with Ferdie, it is difficult to fire powerful spells without risking him being caught in the crossfire, so I draw my sword in one hand and Felix’s steel dagger in my other.

Randolph is only ten paces in front of us now, two guards covering his back as he flees on foot, his horse having been killed by Dorothea’s spell.

“How dare you flee! Come back here, you son of a bitch!” Ferdinand curses with very un-nobleman-like ferocity. The blood and tears streaked across his face give him a wild look and I think neither heaven nor hell could hold him back as he catches up to Randolph’s guards and attacks.

Dodging past the sweep of his scythe, I throw the dagger at Randolph. It slices across his leg, staggering him, and I bear down on him furiously.

He whirls around blocks the blow of my sword forcefully enough to push me back a step.

He’s stronger than I expected.

“That’s it?” he snarls with a laugh.

He swings at me with his great two-handed axe and I bring up my blade just in time to stop its trajectory. My stomach twinges with pain as I strain my muscles to hold steady against the momentum of his attack. A spike of dizziness hits me and I blink. It’s only a second, but in that breath Randolph lunges closer and kicks me.

Pain explodes in my mind as his armored boot shatters my kneecap and I grit my teeth, swinging my sword up to block his axe even as I collapse. The ridges of the axehead catch on my blade and wrench it from my grip, slicing deeply into my wrist as it pries it free.

“Traitor!” Randolph yells at me. “You should have joined her! She would have welcomed you at her side!”

I roll out of the way of his next attack and his axe buries itself in the dirt where my head was seconds ago.

A lightning spell rips from my palms and hits Randolph square in the chest, sending him flying back a few steps. Dragging myself up, I look over my shoulder to see that Ferdinand has killed one of the guards and is locked in combat with the remaining one.

Behind him, the battlefield erupts suddenly in flames, drowning the air in screams and chaos. 

Felix and Petra made it through! The gates will be safe. But now we are cut off from the rest of the army.

We have to finish this. It’s up to me.

Pushing past the pain, I limp towards Randolph, hands crackling with lightning.

“Professor!” Ferdie cries, struggling to get past the guard’s defenses so he can come to my aid. But he can’t gain ground on the man, who keeps blasting him back with seething pillars of dark magic.

Randolph lost his axe, but he grabs a sword off the body of a fallen soldier next to him and staggers to his feet. “If I can’t bring her the keys to Garreg Mach, I will settle for your head!” he screams and attacks.

I throw a spell at him, but his Levin sword lights up with magic of its own that counters the spell. My wounded arm is growing too weak to conduct magic, so I fend him off with spells from one hand, desperately blocking the lightning strikes of the Levin sword with my own magic.

Ferdinand shouts my name but his voice comes from far away and I realize that the dark mage is pushing him back towards the fire and away from me, stranding me alone.

A slice of magic from the Levin sword splits the air and I throw myself out of its way just in time for it to only glance off my shoulder. In the same instant, I fire the most powerful spell I can cast at Randolph, hitting his weapon.

The Levin sword’s blade absorbs the magic but it is too much for it to conduct and it explodes, shards of the metal hitting Randolph along with jolts of lightning. He gasps in pain and stumbles back.

Waves of movement around us catch my attention and I see the remaining imperial soldiers fleeing. One horseman breaks away from the rest and gallops at Randolph, yelling, “My lord!”

Blood is flowing from wounds on both of my arms and my hands are trembling, but I manage to raise one and fire a weak spell at him. It hits his leg and he lurches unsteadily, but stumbles forward enough to grab his axe from where it fell earlier.

I see the hitch in his step. I know the way his arms will shake as he swings at me and the split-second opening I will have to strike while he is off-balance. If I can dodge in time, I could do it. If this goddamn broken leg doesn’t hinder me too much, I can maybe-

_ “I will never leave you behind again. I swear to you.” _

The promise I made Felix hits me and I hesitate before attacking.

My chances aren’t good, but if I don’t try, the horseman will make it to Randolph and they will be able to get away.

But I can’t afford to waver, to be held back. I will be fine. I will survive.

I fire another spell at Randolph and haul myself to my feet. But before I can throw myself towards him, that painful hesitance kicks me in the gut and I stagger back.

_ “Belong to me then…” _

The horseman is nearly to Randolph. I fire a spell at him, but his horse leaps out of the way of it.

Randolph laughs hoarsely and brandishes his axe, shouting, “Come get me!”

My body burns with the impulse to attack, but I force myself to stay where I am. I’m not going to win against the lance of the charging horseman and that great axe with nothing but spells fired from wounded hands. I could kill Randolph with a swift surprise attack, but I would fall prey to the soldier’s lance immediately. It would cost me my life.

There is a half-shattered wall a stone’s throw away and I turn and drag my limping body towards it, picking up my sword as I run.

The horseman reaches Randolph and pulls him into the saddle. He hurls his lance at me but I manage to duck behind the wall just in time to avoid it. Through a gap in the bricks, I watch as the two of them flee the battle with the rest of the decimated troops.

“Professor! Byleth!” Ferdinand says, stumbling over to me. “How badly are you wounded?”

“I’m fine. Are you hurt?”

“Nothing Mercedes cannot fix,” he says. “We have carried the day. Once the fire dies down, our friends can come rescue us. We need only hold our ground here a little longer.”

He stations himself at the edge of the wall to protect me from any soldiers that might be left to attack us and I busy myself ripping a strip of cloth from my cloak to bind the wounds on my arms before I can lose any more blood.

“It is a shame the commander got away,” Ferdinand says, looking over his shoulder at me. “I am sorry I was held up by his guards and was not there at your side. I am not strong enough yet to defend you the way I should. I apologize deeply. I will train harder. I will do better.”

“It’s not your fault,” I tell him. “You fought bravely. It’s mine. I let him get away.”

“To go after him would have cost you your life,” he replies.

“But now he will report back to Edelgard and tell her the numbers of our resistance. And she will return with a bigger army.”

Assured that our surroundings are safe, Ferdinand kneels down next to me. He takes off his gauntlets and picks up the bandage, tying it tightly around my arm.

“Mercedes has taught me a thing or two about first aid,” he says. “There we go. That should hold off the bleeding.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, my heart still heavy with defeat. We might have won this battle solidly, but I failed in my own part of it.

“Professor,” Ferdie says in a firm tone. He stares at me until I look up to meet his warm, golden eyes. “This rebellion began when we found you. It would be very hard to keep its hope alive without you.”

“That is why I am doing my best to survive.”

“Excellent. Felix will continue hating me forever if I let you die while under my protection.”

“You don’t need his approval,” I murmur, feeling lightheaded and weary from blood loss and the smoke choking the air, “nor anyone’s.”

“I know I am not worthy of Mercedes. She is all that is noble and brave and beautiful. And I am just-”

“Ferdie, stop,” I interrupt. “We all are worthy of love.”

He smiles at me, his eyes glistening a bit, although it could just be tears from the burning smoke. “Her love… it is why I am here fighting with you. She is everything to me.”

I sigh and close my eyes, leaning against the rough brick wall. 

I see Felix in my mind, curled up in bed next to me, his expression tight with barely-constrained emotion.  _ “It’s frustrating, isn’t it? It’s much easier to focus in battle when you are on your own. And yet there is so much less reason to fight.” _

The fearless impulsiveness with which I fight will be weakened if I am forced to put as much value on my own life as I do everyone else’s. But Ferdinand is right.

We are not just fighting for what we love anymore. We are fighting because of those who love us. 


	8. Homecoming

###  Felix

“Felix!” Ferdinand shouts, waving at me. I stumble through the smoke and dying flames towards him and catch sight of By’s body slumped on the ground at his feet.

As I rush over with a furious look, he says, “She is only unconscious! She passed out but she is not in danger. If we get her back to Mercedes, she will be alright.”

“She fucking better,” I growl. “What are you two doing out here alone? Why didn’t you fall back with Sylvain and Dorothea?”

“We got separated from them in the fight,” he explains.

I kneel down and examine By’s wounds. When I am sure that she is not in imminent danger, I pull her into my arms and bury my face in her neck.

She is alive. We all are.

“Randolph got away,” Ferdinand says, “but he was sorely wounded.”

“And she didn’t chase him down?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “She fell back. She would have died if she had attacked him.”

I press my lips against her neck and whisper a word of thanks to the goddess.

“Felix, did you see Mercedes? Is she safe?” Ferdinand asks.

“She made it back behind the gates with the others. We are all still standing as far as I know,” I reply.

I force myself to stop clinging to By and stand up. “Where’s your horse?” I ask. “We need to get her out of here.”

Ferdinand’s expression darkens with pain and he says softly, “He fell in the battle.”

He looks so heartbroken I can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. That bastard sure does love horses.

“I’m sorry,” I say and he nods sadly. 

“I’m sure he died bravely,” I add. 

Ferdinand looks both astonished by my kind comment and touched, but I ignore him and pick up Byleth. Between the two of us, Ferdinand and I carry her back through the smoldering rubble to the monastery.

As soon as we are safe within its shelter, we set her down and I shout for a healer.

Mercedes rushes over and flies into Ferdinand’s arms, kissing him fiercely. I want to snap at her to stop and come look at By, but I restrain my sharp words and let her enjoy her reunion with him for a minute.

After a few tearful  _ “thank the goddess you’re alive!” _ s and such, Mercy lets go of Ferdinand and comes over to tend to By.

“Where is Sylvain?” I ask her.

“He is surveying the battlefield with Claude and Lorenz to find survivors,” she answers.

I nod and stand aside as Mercedes unties By’s bandages and heals up her wounds.

“Ferdie, help me carry her to the infirmary so Marianne can follow up,” she says.

But before they can pick her up, she wakes up and blinks up at us hazily. “You’re alright,” she says with a faint smile.

“All of us made it through,” Mercedes says. She laughs and adds, “I wasn’t about to let any of you go dying on me today!”

By gets up and sways a bit but regains her balance and stands steadily. After Mercedes fills her in on the details of what happened during the battle, By thanks her and says, “I’ll go help Claude.”

“He said he would report to you once he returns,” Mercedes says. “You should go rest for a bit.”

By starts to argue, but I grab her arm and lead her away towards her quarters. After a minute, she stops protesting and falls into step beside me quietly. But we are both covered in blood and I don’t know about her, but my muscles are aching from the strain of the fight. I take a detour to the bathhouse and turn on the tap to fill a large bath.

After stripping off our clothes, we climb in and By exhales a long sigh of relief as the hot water soothes her body. Her pale green hair is glowing in the warm light and her skin is flushed and glistening from the steam. Even pale and bruised up from the battle, she is still the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. 

Or maybe that is just the incredible relief of seeing her alive coloring my perception. 

I lean back casually against the side of the bath and say, “Ferdinand told me you let Randolph go.”

She looks over at me with a pained expression, then lowers her eyes to stare blankly into the water. “I’m sorry.”

“He said you would have died if you went after him.”

“Maybe. It would have been close, but maybe I could have gotten him,” she murmurs.

“Why didn’t you then?”

“I made you a promise.”

A strong emotion I can’t place swells in my chest. Is it just relief? Or is it something more? Hell if I know.

I move on top of her to pin her against the side of the bath and kiss her, slowly at first then with a growing frantic eagerness. She wraps her arms around me and kisses me back desperately.

“You said I belong to you now and can’t throw away my life,” she whispers between kisses. “Did I do the right thing letting him go?”

“Yes,” I say, moving down to press my lips against the soft skin on her neck. “It kills me he got away but it is better than you falling in battle. Our rebellion would be lost without you. I would-” I kiss my way across her throat and collarbones and chest and say hoarsely, “I’d be lost without you.”

It is such a silly, sentimental thing to say but I can’t help it. It’s the truth, isn’t it? To find something so precious and lose it would wreck me. It’s an infuriating weakness, but I can’t change the way I feel about her. There is no going back now. I am in too deep.

By takes my face in her hands and pulls my head back up to kiss her lips. Her fingers are rough and calloused from a lifetime of a sword hilt in her hands, but her touch is so gentle it soothes my strained and weary nerves more than the hot water.

She struggles to find the words to say then gives up and kisses me tenderly. After quite some time, she pulls back to look at me. Again she falters, then she says, “Felix?”

“Mhm?”

“I’ve never had a home to fight for like you all do. I’ve just… drifted. That’s a mercenary’s life. It’s what we trade for the money and adventure of the job. Even when I was a professor, this place… I liked it well enough but it wasn’t my home.”

She falls silent again and I wait for her to finish her thought.

“I… You anchor me somewhere. You make me feel like I’ve come home,” she says.

Suddenly I understand that feeling I had when seeing her alive after the battle. The feeling I had when I saw her waiting by the roadside when we first returned to Garreg Mach. The feeling that both captivated and scared me the first time we slept together.

“Stay with me,” I say and my voice is so hoarse it comes out a little more like a barked order than a plea.

Her eyes widen a bit. 

“Keep surviving,” I add in a gentler tone. “Stay here in this life with me. I’m…” The words I want to say sound a little silly and too dramatic in my head but I don’t know how else to put it. “I’m all yours.”

She puts her arms around me again and holds me close. Pressed up against her chest, I can feel her heart beating and it makes me happier than I could ever express.

* * *

###  Byleth

With less severe injuries this time, no one can keep me from being out and about instead of staying locked up in my room to rest. By the time I leave the training grounds, it is dark already and my body is aching from exertion, but my heart is still pounding. I don’t think at this point that it is ever going to stop.

I head straight to the council room to debrief with Claude and after we are done it is well past midnight. There is a slight limp in my step because of my freshly-healed leg as I walk back to my quarters but the peaceful silence of the monastery and the glittering host of stars above in the winter sky make me feel so calm the pain doesn’t bother me much.

The monastery grounds are dark, for everyone else has gone to bed to rest and celebrate our victory in the company of the ones they love. A memory tugs at me of all those nights five years ago when I would walk back to my quarters after a long evening grading papers and going over battle strategies. I would hear whispers of noise and voices coming from behind the closed doors of the dorms and maybe a bit of music and it would only make the silence of my own room more noticeable.

Always surrounded by people – people who cared about me, supported me, trusted me – and yet always alone. I came from a different world than the rest of them. I didn’t grow up in a noble house with comfort and security, friends and family. I grew up on the road with books for an education and a group of grizzled mercenaries for company. They were a raucous lot and as they travelled and drank to their victories and met friends and lovers in passing towns, they would always regard me like I was a strange creature, too silent and weird to fit in, too reserved to join in their merriment.

I will never learn to be like them, nor like the nobles here at Garreg Mach. I will always be that strange creature, marked as an ‘other’ all the more now by all that happened with Sothis and my five lost years.

But I am not alone.

As I cross the courtyard and catch sight of my quarters, I stop and stare. The glow of lantern light is coming from the window and I see a silhouette behind the shades waiting for me.

With a smile, I run towards it. When I open the door, I am met with the aroma of tea and the sight of Felix toying with a sword, slashing it in graceful movements through the air. He stops and smiles at me, setting the sword down on the table.

“What kept you so long?” he asks gruffly. “Waiting around is boring.”

“Then go to sleep,” I say.

He walks over and unbuckles my armor, taking it off piece by piece along with my clothes.

“Not without you,” he murmurs, grabbing my hand and tugging me over to the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Love Fire Emblem and writing and want to make a friend? Hit me up on Twitter @lalexanderwrite


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